Grocery Lists (Am I An Adult Now?)

Milk. Eggs. Bread. Lettuce. Apples. Avocados.

So apparently I’m an adult now. I’ve lived apart from my parents for about two and a half years now, on and off a college campus (now even hundreds of miles away). I even make my own grocery lists, including anything from ice cream to dish soap. I don’t run them by my mom every time anymore either! I can make at least three different meals without calling my dad for help and 9/10 times I won’t burn anything. But does that mean I’m an adult? What is the grocery list for that? Rent. Making my bed. Cooking. Setting my own bed time.

I like to use cats as a bad analogy for this stage of my life as a “young adult” millennial. We’re like cats in that we can go about most of the day by ourselves, making decisions and such but sometimes we need someone to make sure we’re eating and clean up the messes we inevitably make. I know, it’s bad, but it’s almost close. It reminds me of those internet posts that say “I’m an adult but I need adultier adult, an adult who is better at adulting than I am.” I’m not really sure what marks you as an adult versus a young adult, everyone seems to have different opinions on it.

Can I take care of myself? Yes. Do I have to? No! Thank goodness! I could probably be okay if I was cut off from my parents, but I’m not so I don’t have to worry about it! They are incredible and support me on all kinds of levels! There is a lot that I wouldn’t have without them. They pay for things, text me pep talks, and insist on driving me down to Nash so I don’t have to go by myself. They tell me hard truths, encourage me in my dreams, and point me towards Christ. I am so glad I can lean on my parents, they amaze me and are a couple of my best friends.

However, that doesn’t make me less of an adult. I am an adult, even though I don’t always want to admit it. I was always an independent kid, and I still am. I am an independent woman and I can take care of myself, but I am finding that it is not only okay but necessary to ask for help sometimes. And it’s not shameful at all. Maybe, in fact, asking for help is on that grocery list for adulthood.

 

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