Three years old, barely able to walk without toppling and over and already the questions have started. “What do you want to be when you grow up, little one?” In grade school we start preparing for middle school, in middle school you need good grades to start preparing for high school. All so that someday you can get a good job and stop answering with what you want to be by replacing it with what you are.
What does it mean to be a grown-up? Do we reach a certain age and, BAM, we enter the doorway to adulthood? Do we have a choice? “No thank you, I’m not interested.” Can you close the door on the face of grown-up land, at least for the time being?
At the very least, responsibility is thrust upon people. Eventually we take on our own bills, move out on our own, work a full-time job, or end up homeless or in our mother’s basement. But if responsibility equaled what is always referred to as being grown-up, then only a select few would be able to say that they succeeded.
If we look at adulthood as some sort of end goal, as we are taught to do from a young age, we neglect reality. We continue to grow and develop with each new day, finding out more about ourselves and the world around us. At 23, I shouldn’t have to know what I want in 10 or 15 years. I can have a dream, but I must know that this isn’t a sure thing that has to happen. The road before us is constantly being repaved, detours thrust along streets we thought would never change.
The idea of an imaginary grown-up world where all our dreams come true is fictional. There is always still time to discover yourself and the endless possibilities before us.
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