I’m an adult. Mostly.
I still live with my parents, and they help cover some of my bills while I get the rest of my life sorted out, but I’m an adult. Not, like, a full adult though. I’m an Adult-in-Training.
I can make my own appointments, have my own health insurance and full time job, and paid off my car BUT I still struggle to put laundry away the same day I do it and still get way too excited to eat chicken nuggets. I don’t know how to buy a ripe avocado but I know how to make an avocado into a tasty guacamole (thanks dad!). I don’t know which kinds of light bulbs I should use in some lamps in my house, still panic when my toilet starts to overflow, and sometimes wait until the very last moment to get gas for my car BUT I can sew clothes, cook, and bake, know how to mow a lawn and edge it (but I’m really not great at edging) and remember to take my prescriptions and vitamins daily. I’m not great at keeping other things alive (rip all the succulents I’ve tried to keep in my room) but manage to love my dog to pieces and he’s still alive and well so I must be doing SOMETHING right.
Either way, adulting is hard. There’s so many things to remember, rules to follow, expectations from others. But, what can I say, I’m still learning. Half the point of growing up is to screw up so you can learn. And if being an adult means being fully functional, I might never get there. I’ll always be a bit of a mess, and I’m okay with that. I think what matters most is that I understand where I am and who I am and keep training for the day I’m a level-one adult (you know, the kind of adult that can keep a plant alive).