I’ve wondered a lot lately what it means to be a grown-up.
Does becoming a parent automatically make you grow up? What about those who become parents at 13, 14, even 17? What is the bridge you have to cross in order to feel grown-up?
At 29, I’m still often confused that I have responsibility for two children and a household. I still picture myself as the shy 14-year-old girl that begged her mother to let her quit the magnet high school. The 15-year-old with a heart full of romantic hope but unkissed lips. Freshly 18, sweating against the wall as I wait for my college paperwork.
They say many people recall high school or college as the best years of their lives; and, while my college days are very dear to me, I can’t say that they are the highlight of my life. Doesn’t that put a limit on the future? Can shoving seven people in my red Eagle Vision to go through the Wendy’s drive-in compare to seeing the face of my daughter for the first time?
We spend life reconciling inside and outside, what we are and what we feel. I wonder if anyone ever truly feels like a grown-up. I thought I would: when I got married, when I had my first child, when I had two kids. It hasn’t happened yet. Has it for you?
(I touched on this topic by writing a poem on my main blog this week, and I’d love if you’d visit me over there as well!)
When Jessie Weaver is not busy being the resident ParentLife Blogger, she writes at Vanderbilt Wife and also for magazines like HomeLife and ParentLife. She lives in Chattanooga with her husband, where they run after two little ones: Libbie (2) and David (7 months). And yes, that picture is, in fact, of her, around age 14.