I don’t know if anyone else feels like this – I suspect they do – but I often look at the lives or houses or accomplishments of others and think that they are adults and I am not.
Yes, I know I’m an adult. But this morning, for example, I looked at an IG post referred to me by a follower, which led me to another account. I looked at the house she lived in and, though it wasn’t ostentatious by any means, it looked like the decor had been planned and consistent over time and it was lovely and gracious – nothing looked in need of repair, all the pieces were either new or very expensive antiques. Whereas my decor is not planned; it’s mostly vintage and used. Our sofa in the den is falling apart, our kitchen cupboards need to be painted, the drywall in our bedroom ceiling needs to be patched because of leaks that occurred when we had chimney problems…you get the picture, two of our windows have cracks in them and need to be replaced. We can only fix what we can afford to fix. It’s a big deal in our house when we can afford to buy a new bed. Or fix the shed roof and the leak above our front door (both of those things, thank goodness, are going to be fixed in the next few months, thanks to my work on the movie.)
We don’t have investments, except those in our pension plans. We don’t have much in our savings account – I suppose it would be a laughable amount to many.
We’ve never hired a contractor – something adults seem to do. We don’t have a financial advisor – something adults seem to do. We can’t afford to build extensions on our house, or renovate our kitchen, or buy a new car – things adults seem to do.
I’m not complaining, mind you, just making an observation. Often, Don and I will turn to each other and say “Is this being an adult?”
Maybe it’s because we’re in the arts and have always lived hand to mouth. Maybe it’s because we never had children. I don’t know. But, though I know I’m an adult and have spent years as a teacher and coach, as a dog mom, as a mentor – I still don’t feel that way. I often feel as if I’m “playing adult.”
Is it a bit like imposter syndrome, that feeling that you’re really not as qualified, or as skilled, as people think you are? That if they only knew, you’d be seen for what you are? Sort of.
Anyway, that’s what I’ve been thinking about this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m generally not envious of others, and this has nothing to do with that. It’s simply a feeling I get at times. Don feels the same way.
Thoughts?
It’s very, very cold here today. Sunny, but darned cold!
Stay safe.
Happy Monday.
