I think it’s safe to say I only feel like a “real adult” about half the time. I’m sure all the 20-somethings out there know what I mean (and folks older than that, too). I have days where I rock a project at work, have money left over from the previous paycheck when the next one is deposited, or wear a pantsuit. On those days, I realize that yes, I’m 24 and I’m a real adult.
Other days, I can’t be bothered to make my bed, sort the mail, or put on matching socks. On those days, I accept the fact I haven’t quite achieved “real adult” status yet.
Adult (aka “How am I that old already??”) moments: I have a great steady job as a marketing writer for a university. I have health, car, and renter’s insurance, and I pay my bills on time. I maintain my own studio apartment and provide for my cat, Ellie. I own my own car (well, almost. Still paying off the loan). I complain about the fashion choices of our young people. (Seriously. What’s with this new fad of young women wearing shorts so short their butt cheeks hang out? How is that comfortable? What if you sit on hot vinyl? Also, I don’t understand guys wearing flat-billed hats backwards and then wearing sunglasses…)
I walk into bookstores and sniff the books, especially old ones. A 19-year-old called me old a couple months ago. I took a selfie once and noticed I have the beginnings of crow’s feet. I prefer a nice red wine to any other alcoholic beverage. Staying out late now means 10:30 or 11 p.m.
I traveled alone to Europe at my own expense at 23 years old. I’ve begun my master’s degree, and I’m learning to network and build a professional portfolio. Many of my friends are getting married and having babies. My fridge is covered in Save the Dates, and my Facebook feed is loaded with engagement announcements, baby bump pictures, and wedding anniversary posts.
Not So Adult Moments: I do not own a pizza cutter. Whenever I have pizza, I have to cut it with a tiny serrated steak knife my parents gave me when I moved into my first apartment at age 20. My only other knife is a non-serrated knife I got from Wal-Mart. I ironed a hole in my graduation gown because apparently I learned nothing in college. I had to keep my right arm relatively close to my side at all times during the graduation ceremony.
I still shriek or flail my arms a bit when I have to kill a bug.
Case in point: a few weeks ago, there was a huge winged insect in my apartment. Bigger than a grasshopper. My cat alerted me to its presence. I grabbed a tissue and got up on a spinning office chair to nab the little bugger. I readied myself and then went in to grab the bug AND IT MOVED. I shrieked, dropped the tissue, and jumped off the chair. The bug (and the tissue) had disappeared. I sat on the couch to calm down, waiting for the bug to show itself again. About 7 minutes later, it did. This time I nabbed it with my cat-like reflexes (not) and ran to the bathroom to flush it. (Sidebar: I flush bugs because I can’t stand the crunch sound of squishing them…) I tossed the bug into the toilet and flushed it. As the water swirled, the bug escaped its flimsy tissue prison and made a break for freedom. I shrieked again and slammed the toilet lid down just as the bug was about to fly out. Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up.
I LOVE getting practical gifts. My parents have always put items like lotion, socks, shampoo, chapstick, gum, and deodorant in mine and my brother’s stockings at Christmas. I used to be kind of “meh” about that when I was younger, but now I rejoice when I see those items. I’m stocked for months! And when my parents visit me and bring toilet paper, paper towels, and Kleenex? Best day ever!
I’ve happy danced and sang at work with my younger co-workers and been caught doing so by supervisors. They just smile and shake their heads, saying they enjoy our “youthful energy.” I’ve always been of the belief that fun and work are not mutually exclusive. Work hard, play hard.
I’m in a special gray area of “adultness.” I’m legally there, but I don’t feel like it sometimes. And I think that’s okay.
Enough of my rambling. Here are some thoughts from four fellow Millenials who kindly agreed to write guest posts. Enjoy!
Rachel Webber, 24
Occupation: writing for kids & grown-ups
Dependents: Gene Parmesan, cat
Wish list: griddle, couch, more travel
Work: Wake up earlier than you ever have in your life. Except for maybe when you were a baby. Drive in a car. Listen to NPR. Drink coffee. Go to meetings. Mingle with co-workers. Be uncertain. Ask for help. Learn. Work hard. Set goals. Write e-mails. Work on important projects. Make things. Get retirement stuff in the mailbox. Celebrate on paydays. Buy professional clothes. Use a water cooler.
First apartment/house: Find a place with “character.” See past the chipped paint and broken stairs. Think of your savings. Buy plants and succulents and stuff. Have a cool roommate. Hand-wash dishes. Defrost pipes in winter. Wait until you are totally out of work-appropriate clothes to do laundry. Buy things like dryer sheets and curtains.
Shopping list: Cat food. Desserts. 10-year-old you is jealous. Buy all the ice cream you want. If it fits the budget. Think about going to the gym more. Go to the gym. Sometimes. Get healthy foods you think you’ll finish. Buy wine, to save for later. Offer it when you have company. Eat leftover pizza. Order take-out.
Relationships: Experience your own relationships. Some heartbreak. Some joy. See your friends start getting married. Be in weddings. Talk about friends getting married with all your friends. Then talk about babies. I know right? When did we get so old? Ah, but we’re still young. Experiencing a lot. Keepin’ on growing up.
Jeff Koch, 29
I am an adult, but you know what? I really don’t feel much like an adult. I’ve never really felt like what I envisioned an adult being when I was a kid. Although I like to think or maybe pretend I know a thing or two about a thing or two, I’m still fairly clueless in life.
I have a grown-up job and I have adult responsibilities- much the same we all do: bills, cooking and cleaning, taking care of a plant, etc. I’m barely still in my twenties, so I can’t even say I’m fresh out of school anymore. I’m also active in leadership roles supporting the community. Whatever, I’ve always said I refuse to be fully responsible until I’m 30, and even then maybe just responsible ish!
So really, I prefer to think about how much I’m NOT an adult. On weekends I still occasionally sleep in until noon. I’ve had multiple dinners made up of cereal, granola bars, and cookies/ice cream. I prefer to procrastinate priorities for “priorities”. I still laugh at some fart jokes- stop judging me! I still enjoy drinking a little too much with friends from time to time. I have shirts that need to be ironed, but no iron or ironing board. I have multiple undershirts with holes in them because they do the job and “who’s gonna see?” It takes me an hour to tie a tie, so once tied, I leave them tied hanging in my closet. Once in a while I still spend all night playing video games. When I talk about going home, I mean where I grew up 1,800 miles away. Yep, that’s still and might always be the real home to me.
I can probably ramble on and on boring most of you to death, but I think you get the point. I’m not sure I’ll ever truly feel like a real adult, but I’m hearing more and more that’s kind of normal. I honestly don’t care if it’s not normal. I like goofing around and I hope I never really lose that part of me.
Emily Smudde, 24
It was a bright, spring day. I walked with my eyes forward, focusing on the sidewalk in front of my and trying to keep myself out of the conversation between my supervisor and her boss.
They were talking about dry cleaners.
“Thanks for referring me to them. The pick-up option was great,” my supervisor said. “He came right to my office. I didn’t have to worry about anything!
I quickened my pace, desperate to keep out of the conversation. Please, please don’t look at me, I thought.
“Emily,” my boss said. I cringed and looked over my shoulder at them. “Do you need a dry cleaners?”
“Uhm…” I started. I stopped and I could feel my cheeks flush as my boss and my boss’s boss waited for my answer.
“I don’t think…” I said. “I don’t think I have anything that needs to be dry-cleaned.”
Now, I know that not having anything that needs to be dry cleaned is nothing to be ashamed of. I’m actually quite proud that I don’t own any clothes that require extra steps to clean. It saves me time and money, but admitting that to my superiors made me feel like a five-year-old. I just didn’t feel like an adult.
That’s not an uncommon feeling for me since I moved away from home. I know I’m by law an adult, but sometimes I feel like there was a class I missed on how to actually be an adult. I don’t know how mortgages work, I still eat Kraft mac and cheese for dinner, and I don’t own anything that needs to be dry cleaned.
Then there are times when I feel very, very adult. I have purchased bed sheets based on thread count, I crochet for fun, and I look forward to boring presents like soap, canned goods, and paper products.
The most adult I’ve ever felt was Christmas 2013, I believe, and my husband and I had gone down to Vancouver to visit family. Throughout my childhood my aunt, who worked at a paper factory, would give the children toys and the adults free toilet paper for Christmas.
That Christmas my husband and I received toilet paper for Christmas, and I was stoked about it.
I’m such an adult.
Courtney Abbott, 24
To adult, or not to adult… Do I have a choice?
When I was younger all I wanted was to be a “grown up” – they seemed to have life made. Tons of money, ability to make their own schedules and decisions, no curfew – the possibilities seemed endless. Flash forward about twelve years and I find myself at age 24 with a ton of adult responsibilities and no idea how it all happened. People on the Washington State University campus tell me I’m old when they find out my age, yet I’m among the youngest at my full time job. I therefore find myself in limbo between adulthood and still feeling like a child sometimes.
So, just how ‘adult’ am I? Let’s examine some traits and habits to find out.
Adult: I am getting married in less than 3 weeks and will no longer get to make decisions on my own. I have a full time salary job. Last October, I purchased my own vehicle. I manage and pay my own bills every month without help from my parents. My preferred Friday night consists of a few glasses of wine at home and Netflix. I am tempted to go put sweaters on girls wearing practically nothing on Halloween. I am in bed before 10 p.m. most nights. Paying for hair cuts means only getting them once a year. I am becoming increasingly forgetful and feel senile. I choose to watch Lifetime movies occasionally.
Non-adult: I still go to my parent’s house to do laundry. I have an iron but no ironing board and refuse to iron anything anyways. I amafraid of the dark and sleep with a stuffed giraffe named Oliver. I still watch old-school Disney movies and sing along to them. My go-to dinner is Mac & Cheese and hot dogs because it requires no effort or skill & my metabolism can still handle it. I still don’t know how to read a map or tell directions (that’s what GPS is for). I love arts and crafts and could do them all day. When something breaks I usually ask my dad for help.
While, I’m sure there are many other facets that could sway me either way on the ‘adult’ scale, I’m happy to still have my non-adult traits for now. They keep me young.
Meredith Metsker 