When I was younger I used to think that life would be much easier when I get older. Growing up with a strict grandmother, I wasn’t really allowed to do as much things as the rest of my playmates were allowed to. I wasn’t really sheltered; I had my fair share of playing until sunset, ample bruises and scars with too much running and biking outdoors, and hopping from a playmate’s house to another.
But my life, much like any other kid at that time, was very much structured.
With much of my younger years spent with a strict grandparent, I would say that we both abide by a strict schedule to how my day, and my life as a kid, is supposed to go about.
I never really fostered retaliatory thoughts to my semi-strict upbringing; but as a kid I constantly thought that life as an adult would be much better and I can’t wait to grow up.
And now reality is catching up, and I am in my adulthood, mid-twenties, wishing I can have someone to tell me what to do and how to do things, with the end in thought described as it’s-alright-to-do-this-and-that, I-have-someone-to-catch-me-at-the-end-of-the-day-anyway— but today, everything’s really up to me.
Adulthood is, among many other things, liberating. I get to choose when and where I can have dinner, engage in activities that I fancy, have beer anytime of the day. But these are just menial tasks which I can compare to the basic needs my grandmother urged to me comply with during certain times of the day.
But, crediting to the fact that I have my ideals and ambitions these days, I have so much more concerns than having my daily sustenance and beer, which leads me to constantly questioning how my life is supposed to go about, REALLY.
Don’t get me wrong– I’m not an unemployed adult who lives with her parents and asking for allowance even after having graduated years back. On the contrary, I am an employed adult who is pursuing further studies, though still living with the ‘rents. At this point though, I would like to note that I help with the Bills.
But the thing is, I hold this constant anxiety about whether I am living my adult life just the way it’s supposed to be. Being a fan of reading, I see a lot of stories of triumph and successes of people who have aced their adulthood–which gets me started on questioning whether I will be able to achieve that kind of success they had or are having.
I must admit that I have not found yet the perfect recipe for living. But I would like to believe that I am doing it the best way I can. While I must admit, I do compare my life with others of my age [which frustrates me, or if lucky, makes me proud], I also try to think that life is not race, although they say it is when you try to catch the train or a cab.
At the end of the day, there’s always the constant questions about the life I live and whether or not I am living it right at the moment. But at least I get to answer past questions one by one. To my younger self: “Adult life ain’t as easy as you think, but you should grow up, it’s sort of Fun.”