This sucks

I hate being a grown up.

When I was but a wee Kristin, I couldn’t wait to be done with that childhood bullshit and on to bigger, better things. Things like apartments and cats and cool fall wardrobes and fancy drinks and parties and concerts all the time! Grown up! Yeah!

Being a grown up means doing things you don’t want to, but know you should.

Like going without that lunch time drip coffee for a month so you can more easily pay for your medical bills that your cheapest-option-but-still-mandatory health coverage doesn’t quite cover. And you went to the doctor and dentist and eye doctor because it was the responsible “I don’t want to get worse” thing to do.

Being a grown up means owning up to your mistakes, like when you let your social media work vents get the best of you and then you get caught by your boss. But then, instead of pretending it didn’t happen, you apologize and actually try to make it right. And after that, you try to not let it happen again.

Being a grown up means taking your turn at the reins of Stable Jobdom for a few years while your spouse or partner goes off on a new adventure and works odd and long hours, just like they did for you a few years prior so you could go back to school and work part-time after it was clear your previous job was on a crash-course for burnout city.

Being a grown up means coming to terms with project concept rejection, and that eventually your back-burner of on-hold projects will be more full than your front-burner of active projects. It also means recognizing that rejection doesn’t always correlate to being bad at your job.

Being a grown up means going to the hospital to visit ailing, but recovering, grandparents, even though hospitals make you nervous to the point of fainting. It means swallowing your pride, getting past your fears and discomfort and phobias, and doing something for the sake of the betterment of someone so much more important than you.

Being a grown up means coming home early on a night out so you can let the dog out after she’s been cooped up all evening before she tears up your new shoes again. It also means not drinking so you actually can make that drive back home when it’s time to leave.

Being a grown up means staying friends with all parties after a breakup, or a life change you don’t agree with, or a random fight that was picked for who knows what drunken reason this time.

Being a grown up means waking up at 4:30 to clean up after a sick animal after going to bed at 1:00 while working on a deadline project for the third night in a row, then waking up two hours later to get ready for work anyway.

Being an adult is easy. Almost everyone gets that chance if they’re just given enough time.

But being a grown up? Freshly 28 and I’m still figuring that out.

Same little girl, different set of challenges.

I think I’ll get the hang of it one day.

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Kristin De La Rosa

Kristin De La Rosa

A so-far life-time resident, born and raised in the Tri-Cities. I dabble in many things -- art, graphic design, writing, homesteading, learning languages and traveling. I speak and understand just enough Spanish and Japanese to get into (or out of) trouble. Formally educated in journalism; graphic and web design pay the bills. I have a huge crush on how small our big community is.

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  • Suzy Garza Higley

    Sounds like you already have the hang of it. 🙂

  • Becca Lingley

    Your dog throwing up at 4 AM comment made me laugh because that was my night last night. I’d say you’ve got a good handle on the grown-up things. We definitely didn’t appreciate being kids nearly enough. Didn’t know how good we had it.

  • Interestingly, so many of those dreaded “grown-up” activities/choices, are also the very things that can bring an increased sense of meaning into life. I remember wanting to be a grown up really bad too. When I want to be a kid again, I try and think back to why I wanted to be a grown up. And as common as many of those things are, it is nice to be able to make so many of your own choices and have the freedom we do as grown ups. Sucky part is that we’re accountable for those choices too. Maybe that’s the part we didn’t “get” when we were kids. 😉

  • Sara Taylor

    I do this thing where I try to imagine what my child-self would think of my current-self. It helps 🙂