Growing up is not easy: Probably one the greatest cliches falling just beyond love conquers all and carpe diem. Although it’s told over and over, there is one thing that’s rarely talked about. You never stop growing up. Your parents, teachers, doctors, favorite authors never reached an age when they could clap their hands together and say “Great, I have made it through Growing Up. I am now grown. This is where it gets easy.” It never gets easier. Growing up stops when you die. And with that, I think maybe Growing Up became an easy lie to tell to angsty teenagers and struggling 20 somethings to describe why things were hard and difficult to understand, feigning the finish line of adulthood where things will have worked themselves out. I think Growing Up became a euphemism for “Life is Hard” because it is. Life is hard. But no adult wants to look a 16 year old in the eyes and her that is doesn’t get any easier. Tell him that you discover new things to figure out as quickly as you figured out the firsts. Because then the tellers, the parents, the teachers, the adults would have to come to terms with their own disappointment that it never did get any easier and they lived for a while waiting to cross that line. They are still fighting some of the same battles, still looking for the same excitement, pleasure, comfort consistency that they always have.
I’m not sure about you, but I was under that impression, and to be honest, fall back under it somedays. That things would get easier. I’d get a great job, meet a great man, start a great family, live a great life. And the ease and the happiness would fall into place just for the sake of finally possessing those milestones. I’m in a baby in the grand scheme of things. Just now breaking into the 2nd fourth, hopefully fifth, of my life, and I pretend to think I know a lot but I think I’ve figured out that’s not how it works. At least that’s not how it will work for me. There’s a lot more searching and struggling involved and it continues through your life. You’ll always be looking for something. You’ll always be looking for your people, or your place or your thing. The one that makes you feel at home and at peace and complete. And by god, if you’ve found it, whether at 20 or at 80, good for you. The world needs more people who are suffering from unadulterated happiness. And if you have found happiness in the search, my jealous is with you. How magnificent that must be. Because I am still struggling and probably will be for a while. It will be a long process of new things and new people. A lot of “No, that’s not it” with a handful of hopeful “Yeah, I like this” thrown in for some color.
No, growing up doesn’t get any easier but who am I if not someone who loves a challenge.