After I’d come back from meeting with my lawyer and was at work working away at my computer creating a webinar to help teachers understand how to deal with challenging classroom situations, I had a realization: I have never felt like I’m an adult–at least not the adult I’d considered adults to be when I was growing up. But lately, I’ve been doing more and more things they’ve done and a second revelation really hit me: I must be one.
Grown-up Job: Check. I’m the Manager of a national book retailer and distributor–this in an industry I have been employed in for more than a decade. Before this, I was Program Director for a school…and before that, a teacher–pretty adult sounding professions if you ask me.
Not Young Age: Check. I turned 35 on October 25th. Unless you’re in your 60s or above, you just can’t call someone my age a young person anymore. It’s 5 years before 40, a number that most definitely shreaks adulthood. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge my age at all…except for an increasing number of lines by my eyes.
Ginormous Debt & Assets: Check. My partner and I just bought our very first place–a condo, which is about 329% more expensive than the second-most expensive item we’ve bought. Me? I am a homeowner paying a mortgage!?
So does 35 + Condo = Adult? Only if it means I can keep being my youthful, quirky self amidst the responsible person I need to be.