Adulting

I'm 26 years old. Because of my disability, I don't work, have only been inside a school to pick up textbooks for homeschooling, and my mother still cooks every meal I eat. I don't handle money or shopping, and I can't dress myself. For all intents and purposes, I have no adult responsibilities.

My life now isn't much different than it was when I was 16, or even 6. I'm smarter and better at social interaction, and the movies I watch have swear words sometimes, but it hasn't changed much.

Becoming an adult is supposed to mean something. It's supposed to be different than being a kid. I don't think I even celebrated my 18th birthday.

This morning I signed the contract with Cast of Wonders to allow them to turn my story into a podcast. I signed a contract. Via an email address my mother didn't make for me. The check will have my name on it. I didn't ask anyone for permission to send my story in, nor did I feel the need to have anyone except me read the contract before I signed it.

Becoming an adult does mean something, but I don't think it has to happen when the government says you're allowed to vote, your family lets you sit at the big table at Thanksgiving, or your religion says you've come of age.

It's all about the way you feel, and sometimes you can become an adult two weeks after you turn 26.