It’s “I’m not a girl, not yet a woman,” in case you were wondering. Why that one, you say? Because for a while I’ve felt like I was doing well at fooling everyone into thinking I’m a responsible adult. I’m not. I don’t know how anyone ever let me live on my own, let alone be going on my fourth year of it (well kind of, do dorms count?).
I’m trying to find an apartment back in Chicago right now, which is even more frustrating than usual when you’re 1,000 miles away. So my mom has been helping me, looking for apartments for me because I can’t and calling various management companies, etc. Obviously I can’t do it from here, but I still feel like I’ve taken so many steps backwards having mommy do it all for me. The kicker is she might help me out financially for rent this year just a tiny bit because well, trying to live in Lincoln Park/Lakeview in a studio is really hard on my budget. It’s even harder when management companies lie to you about what they actually have vacant for September 1. That is a whole other story that could be dedicated to its own post so I’ll pass, but still. It’s unsettling.
The Red Eye, The Chicago Tribune’s free offshoot people read on the El for frivolity, had a story this week about what makes you an “adult.” Answers were varied, but the gist of the article was that 21st century adulthood isn’t all that different from decades past. That’s all well and good, but that’s not what I’m interested in, I just want to know how someone expects me to make it through life when no one will pay me to do anything right now.
The thing is, I’m not an adult yet. I’m only 21. I’m only a senior in college. But, I feel like I have something to prove. I feel like I’ve been pretending for so long I’m more mature than I really am that I need to keep it up, but I feel like my projected maturity and actual maturity are starting to catch up and I don’t know what to do. I know I have time before I need to make it in the big bad real world, but I don’t think another 30 weeks of school are really going to prepare me for anything.
Jobs and school and living etc are all one aspect of it, but there’s another side too. I’ve realized, as recently as today, that there are parts of me that haven’t progressed emotionally and such since I was about 15. No, I’m not still hanging out with only people from my home town because I’ve moved on, but I hate confronting my problems and the people that have problems with me. I would rather ignore something with all of my might than face it head on like a big girl. When do we come to that lesson in school? Did I miss it somewhere between a pre-calc and English class in high school?
It’s problematic enough for me, but it becomes an issues where my refusal to deal with things hurts others. I never mean it to, I just haven’t grown up enough yet to learn to deal with my problems.
So here’s my question: do you ever learn how to do the other emotional half? Because surprisingly, even as a journalist, that seems even harder to find than a job.