There are many milestones that can signal becoming and adult. Some consider turning 18 and being able to vote their transition into adulthood. Other things like moving out of home, graduating from college, earning your first paycheck, buying a car, paying bills, living alone, buying your first home, getting married, or having your first child marks adulthood for some. I’ve done all those things (minus the last two) but I’ve always still felt like a kid.
Last week I realised that I’m officially and adult. No, the realisation didn’t come as a result of my 27th birthday (although at 27 I should feel like an adult).
I’ve been working on a project out in the factory for the past couple of weeks. The factory is not the cleanest place around so I’ve been wearing “grubby” clothes. These “grubby” clothes are the same clothes I wore throughout college, in the evenings and on weekends. After five days of this routine I ran out of clothes. When did I run out of ‘normal’ clothes, the clothes that I’ve been wearing my whole life? I used to LIVE in jeans, t-shirts, flip-flops, running shoes, gym shorts, tank tops, yoga pants, and hoodies. Anything with buttons was for special occasions.
Now my closet consists of sensible work pants, knee-length skirts, button-up blouses and comfortable heels. Pretty, but not fun. Adulthood, like my wardrobe, is sensible but kind of boring.