When I was a child, I wanted to grow up quickly. I wanted to be able to go out and not have a curfew. I wanted to have more spending money. At 15, it looked like being older, of being of age, seemed like a really wonderful thing. Something to look forward to.
At 31, I wonder more than once if I’m already an adult or am I still the same child. My parents still ask me where I’m going and what time I’ll be back. I still like getting ice cream from the ice cream vendors by the Singapore River. My mom still tells me to eat my vegetables and not play with my food.
But then, there’s the proverbial marriage questions that are coming more frequently.My mother’s absolutely unsubtle mentions of a son-in-law and grandkids. My sisters’ insistence for me to move out of the house so that they can have my room.
So when do you know that you’re an adult?
Is it when the man you’re dating tells you, “Lets get married.”
Or when you look at houses together?
Or when you and your man have an open, honest discussion on what you want for your future together?
Frankly, I have no idea about this thing called adulthood.
While I love the idea of being married, I don’t think that I know what that really means. Noone will tell me.
The thought of buying a house terrifies me. Not just the costs but what it means for our finances and our ability to repay the loan.
As much as I would love to have children now, I don’t know if I’m ready for those responsibilities. Telling me that noone is every ready for that doesn’t make me feel any better.
It’s scary isn’t it, being an adult? All that responsibilities and expectations.
What if you’re not ready? What then?