Before, I thought that being an adult meant being 18. And that was it. That was the definition.
Over the past few years, though, I had added a few more criteria to what it means to be an adult: Have a job. Like your job. Be good at your job. Be able to pay for things yourself. Have your own place. Be able to cook for yourself. Be active. Take care of yourself. Do taxes. Host dinner parties. Be in relationships that aren’t stupid.
Basically, being an adult = having your shit together.
But I’ve discovered that quite a few 20-somethings don’t have their shit together, including myself. It’s frightening, but soothing at the same time. Hey, this person doesn’t have it figured out! That sucks, but at least I’m not the only one. Yep, it’s a comfort to know that adults don’t feel like adults.