Okay, so I’m aware that anyone older than me will probably be rolling their eyes at the title of this post. And yeah, I know I’m relatively quite young at 22 years of age, but transitioning into adulthood is an interesting experience.
It’s odd when you’ve been in full time study your whole life; it gives you a very different kind of independence. And I’m not convinced it’s the good kind. Living at university puts you in the “uni bubble”, where nobody looks before they cross the road; people eat instant noodles while walking to campus and you can stay in bed past 9 a.m and that’s okay.
But now I’m in my last year of my masters, I’m living at home and applying for jobs. I’m doing more and more adult things, and mum is getting more and more annoyed at me when I ask where the mixing bowls are (I swear their location changes). I mean, I’m struggling on, but for a while I just felt like a massive failure – like why was I struggling with things like cleaning the toilet, when I was supposed to know how to do it?
I’ve come to terms with it now though, and I’m genuinely learning from every fail. It is hard, but I’m not feeling the pressure so much of getting things right every time. I think that when you’re young, you have this fixed idea of what adults are. They have the answers to everything, they’re super responsible and reliable and they’re someone to look up to. In reality, every adult is just muddling through life, no one knows everything and everyone makes mistakes. The only amazing thing is how I never realised this when I was little.