When I was growing up, adults were Mister and Misses. When Mr. Jones became Jack and Mrs. Smith became Barbara it was an indication that I was an adult.
It’s funny you mention this. It was really weird the first time one of my coworkers referred to me as “Miss” plus my first name. In the southeast US, this is a common way to show respect to an older woman that you consider a friend too.
Damn. You hit the nail on the head with that one. I don’t remember when I started referring to adults by their first names, but it was such an odd feeling. Now I call everyone from the 89 year old neighbor to the 9 year old across the street by their first name, and they’re okay with it, gack!
I’m a nurse in my late 40s, and I still have to open conversations with my elderly patients “Mister Smith” “Mizz Smith” when I first meet them. I can’t help myself; it’s how I was raised haha
The first time was when I accidentally cut myself with a new knife while trying to chop a cabbage. Thankfully due to quick reflexes, it wasn't a serious cut, but I remember for just a split second that old childhood instinct of looking around for the adult kicked in... right before I remembered Iwastheadult, and was the one in charge of the situation.
After that I just got myself plastered up and was groovy. Still have the scar to this day to remind me of my green nemesis.
Maybe after 2 kids? Or around when I got married? It definitely wasn’t before my wife came along. If you ask her, she might say she’s still waiting. I don’t know. I still feel like a kid even though I have a lot of responsibilities and my body says otherwise.
It gets so much worse after 40. I got tennis elbow and I have no idea how. I don’t even play tennis. It took months to heal. I couldn’t even carry a bag of groceries without intense pain. I got plantar fasciitis while jogging. I had to wear special sandals around the house until it finally healed. I tore my rotator cuff tripping and falling in the ocean. It’s just ridiculous how little things can result in injuries. Working out is a totally different experience now. Instead of pushing a little harder it’s about holding back to avoid injury. I can’t see shit anymore. I have to wear bifocals and crank the font size up on all my devices.
For me it’s closer to 16. Like yeah, I can be an adult but I sure don’t feel it! Or maybe like a cat. Sure, cats can exist by themselves…but it’s better if someone else is feeding them and taking them to a vet occasionally.
Although recently I looked up who to contact about terrible streetlights, which seems like an adult thing to do.
Probably the first time I realized someone didn’t like me and I honestly didn’t care. I hadn’t done anything to them that I know of. I guess I just wasn’t their cup of tea. And you know what? I was ok with that because I like me and that’s not something that I’ve always been able to say.
When I got my very first paycheck and saw the gross pay and the final amount. I had some conflicting feelings.
Another, much earlier moment was in high school. I don’t remember the exact event that triggered it anymore, but something bad had happened and the first thing out of my mouth was “It’s not my fault”. The teacher pulled me aside and told me just because it’s not my fault doesn’t mean it’s not my responsibility.
I think the first experience was the first time I felt like an adult in the moment but the latter was the first time I was treated like an adult in retrospect.
I had something similar. My mom passed and my dad had no idea how to live without her. His life skills (outside of work) were basically laundry and making toasted tomato sandwiches. Didn’t realize how adult I was until I had to teach someone 30 years older than me how to live.
Something similar. After my dad passed away I have had to take care of my mom for regular day to day stuff since dad and grandpa used to do that for the whole family. So I had to figure out myself first how to manage the house and teach mum how to be more independent. She’s learnt a lot now and we take care of each other now.
When I realized that adults are just kids in an older outer packaging. Things barely change, they just start involving money and hearth, that’s pretty much it.
Oh man, getting into a workplace and finding out folks are just as gossipy or petty about inconsequential bullshit as high schoolers are (Like that one tweet about a manager being upset that the CC’s on a e-mail weren’t in seniority order.) was an eye opener for sure.
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