So, today’s the last day I can accurately make this statement. Tomorrow I will be turning 20, entering a new decade and ready to see where life takes me. As with the reminder of time’s passage, I’ve been thinking about the past and what it means to mature.
Growing up, many of the adults in my life would tell me that I was very mature for my age. From elementary school and long after, teachers would go on and on about this to my mother and whoever else would listen. As a young child, I would beam every time someone said it.
During my senior year of high school, I started to wonder if being “mature” was even worth it. I questioned if this so-called maturity was causing me to miss out on being a kid and really living my life. There were so many other students making reckless decisions that seemed to turn out fine. At least they looked happier than I was feeling at the time.
I spent part of my senior year making dumb decisions in the “spirit of youth.” I realized early on that I wasn’t actually missing out on much and decided to go back to being “mature” with my choices. With that, I started to realize that I was creating my own future instead of waiting for others to take the lead.