Adulting
Adulting is hard. Most of the time I feel like a phony. Five years in, I STILL don’t feel adult-enough to be a mother. I took both kids for a check-up this week and rather than celebrating the fact that my children are healthy and thriving, I couldn’t help feeling the immense pressure that comes with the responsibility of parenting and adulting.
I’ve always been an old soul, so it must be the responsibility and lack of freedom part of adulting that scares me most. Truth be told, recent conversations of late with friends about property taxes, building permits and the lack of well-made furniture available have really made the impending 40th birthday feel like a reality. College feels like a blur and I can barely bring into focus the jaunts around the East side in my twenties. What the hell did I do all day long when my only responsibility was a job? I’ve had a couple of dreams this past month about my old Brady Street apartment and I can’t help wonder if this is my subconscious yearning for a simpler, less adult life.
I’ve had plenty of time this past year to ponder, self-reflect and work on evolving into this new(ish) role of adult mother. Here is what I’ve learned:
Everyone has issues and past trauma, even if they are not self-aware enough to recognize it
We are all working on healing, whether we know it or not
Healing takes a really long time and its easier if you allow yourself to be vulnerable
We are all trying our best to not traumatize our kids
Evolution, or bettering yourself takes discipline and practice every single day
But is being an adult just a state of mind? I mean, I’m going through the motions, but mentally I still feel 28 sometimes. I guess I have the next 30 years to figure that out and kids who help me act less mature, so that’s a good thing.
Here’s some photographic evidence of me and Ramsey living our best non-adult life on a camel at Brady Street Days, at Redwoods National Park, skiing up north and in Spain. Ahhh...those were the days!
