Wait, I’m an adult now. When did that happen?

You’re walking down the street or driving your car, or going back to work from a cigarette break when suddenly it hits you: you’re an adult now. When did that happen? When did you grow old, when did you leave behind your younger, naive and innocent self? You’re supposed to be a grown up now, but suddenly you don’t feel like one. Suddenly you feel like you’re not supposed to be here, like the world played a game on you, you pressed auto-pilot and it brought you here, without your consent and all you can do now is play along.

Most of the time we’re running on auto-pilot, our mind just doing what we’re use to do, rarely braking down and stopping to think about the world that surrounds us, because hey, it’s always been like this, right?

Sometimes I look at me, I’m 25 years old now, I have a stable, great job. I have a 2 years old daughter. I have a car, a car! Can you believe that? Who else have cars but adults, man.¬†How crazy. I’m going around making big person decisions, behaving like a grown up and having deep meaninful conversations with myself about the state of my emotional being, my career, my future, my family’s future. I think about my familys future, MY family, not the family I belong to but the one that depends on me. Ugh, this is getting weird fast.

When did I go from having acne and playing games 8 hours a day to being head of the household? When did I start worrying about careern prospects, buying a house, which country to settle down on. Heck, when did I start worrying about my back hurting and going to the doctor for that knee pain?

I feel like I’m just the same person that used to skip the 7am class because, well, I was sleepy. But at the same time I’m going to bed at 10:30pm to get an 8 hours sleep. It’s like I’m a convergence of two different individuals, the memory of my former self and my current, real self.

These realizations are short lived, which is good. When they last longer they become what’s kown as the Impostor Syndrome. Which I’m grateful I don’t suffer from as of now. But that begs the question, when do we stop being our older selfs and become our present ones? When do we draw the line of “the teenager me, the university-yolo me, the moving-from-country me, and now I’m the trying-to-get-my-shit-together-because-im-paying-bills me”. Oh yeah, I’m paying bills AND taxes.

Ah, they grow so fast. One day you’re worried about being a virgin and the next you have a gorgeous, screaming-red daughter that got upset cuz mommy didn’t give her a cookie.

It just makes me wonder, will I feel the same, sometimes, when I’m 30? Like: “hey, what happened to that guy that used to play video games on the weekends?” And when I’m 40: “hey, what happened to that guy that used to skip coffee in the morning because he didn’t feel tired?” Jeez, I don’t even want to go up to my 50s or 60s. My dad is 60 something. I’m also a dad, which makes my dad a grand-dad, huh, funny.

It’s just funny how things turn out. I think of my age, 25, and I just feel so… young. Yet, I feel old, like I’m starting to understand how all this thing works, this game of life. Funny thing is, I think I also felt the same way 5 years ago, and 5 years before that. I’ll probably feel that way when I’m 30. “Sigh, I was so naive at 25, this is the real shit, son”.

This “article” is getting out of control. I’ll probably feel ashamed of it in the not-distant future, the same way I feel ashamed of my early Facebook posts. That stupid 17 year’s old Obed, get over her, man! Life’s though.

But you know what’s the best part of being an adult? Whenever I feel like it, I can buy a cake for myself. With real money. Money that belong to me. Even two cakes, because fuck it, I’m responsible, I can deal with 2 cakes.

A. GOD. DAMN. CAKE. Life’s awesome. Growing up wasn’t so bad after all.

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