Introspection memoirs

Growing up

Nobody tells you exactly how you are supposed to grow up, and it sure as hell isn’t about finishing your education and getting a job. It can’t be.
Nobody prepares you for the buckets of expectations that will be splashed in your face whenever you run short of said achievement.
Nobody quite defines the standards of success and/or happiness. Everything we read as children taught us that most things in life are relative yet we live by barracks of absolutes.
Nobody precisely customizes your adulthood to suit you. You simply grow into it and you rely on the limits you set yourself and others accordingly set for you.
It all apparently is a bad form of chaos, an unnecessary rush for an unclear finish line.
Do you have everything you want? Or are you working towards it? Well, then what? That’s what I’m curious about. Then What??
I find myself sewn into an ideal that I have not asked for, I feel ambushed and unappreciated. I really hope this is not one of those weird phases, we , as human beings, have to go through in order to achieve a milestone in age, wisdom and experience.
I hate labels and I dislike frames. I do not understand detail I perceive only wholes. That, however is keeping my over educated head at home, and my good for apparently nothing- skills at bay.
We are bombarded with standards and levels and requirements for minimal performance and my reaction is basically “are you kidding me?” Most of the times.
I realize this is a perfect rant as cliche as it gets considering my situation. And I will one day look back from my desk job and laugh at how inadequate I felt and how unfair I perceived the grown up world to be. Maybe I overestimate my self, and my pride overrides my logic at times, and that’s the cost of not feeling integrated enough to take the solemness and gloominess of having to “grow up”.
It’s funny that I am technically a grown up by now, and as I’m documenting this huge Sham, I find that no body really knows much. It’s borderline insane to think that other people might be having similar inquiries as mine, as to how exactly does one grow up? What does it mean? And who shows up at your door, shakes your hand and pats you on the back saying :” well congratulations, you have officially grown up! Welcome to the club, here’s the book of secrets, be sure to be as vague as possible to your children, or else we’ll have to include them, and you know, this is exclusive members only.”
Nobody, that’s the answer. Nobody has a clue. And I am pretty sure we each make our own way towards some feeling of satiety, achievement and reward.
I don’t know where any physical lines can be drawn. I don’t know if they should. I realize the value of independence and I think that is the initial straw towards living an adult life. Besides that, nothing really changes. Nothing extraordinary happens, and epiphanies don’t begin hitting you on a daily basis.
You just live, and then you see, you feel, and you learn. Repeat until you are happy with the process and its yields. You just live and you learn, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that as a definition for growing up.
You are most welcome future generations; empirical evidence at it’s best.

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