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Discuss an accomplishment or event, formal or informal, that marked your transition from childhood to adulthood within your culture, community, or family.
Throughout my entire life, travelling has always been a staple. My parents took me to the sandy beaches of the Galapagos before I could even speak, I saw Big Ben before I could even read a clock and I ziplined through the rainforests of Costa Rica before I weighed enough to make it all the way across. Every summer was filled with road trips across a new foreign country. However, for this past summer, I had another idea.
Though I was well versed in travelling, my parents never allowed me to travel by myself. Every idea I came up with was immediately shot down with, "you're not old enough" or "ask me about that later", which we all know as parent-code for "not going to happen". I was always shocked by my parents hatred of the idea because I had not lived a sheltered life. I would always wander my neighborhood until sundown, and I started watching CSI and Criminal Minds in second grade. After years of badgering, I had finally worn them down with a trip to New York City. "Allowing you to travel on your own is the last sliver of the cake of childhood," my mother had said, "We've tried to keep you our little baby girl for as long as we could." My mother assured me that in order for me to go, I had to arrangements everything myself. I booked a hotel, bought my train tickets and anxiously awaited eating away at the last slice of my childhood cake.
The night before my trip, my bags were all packed but my dreams of freedom and the taste of sweet independence I was going to enjoy, kept me awake. Visions of me strutting down Broadway with my iced latte while every passerby stopped to stare, began a whirlwind of fantasies of what tomorrow would bring. By the time my alarm rang, I had only slept just shy of 15 minutes, but adrenaline and caffeine was running through my veins. With my heart pounding, I hugged my parents goodbye and walked toward the train, the last slice of my cake getting smaller and smaller with each step I took.
"Now arriving at Grand Central Station!" the train's loudspeakers announced. I quickly shuffled off the train, stopped by Starbucks, and promptly arrived at the hotel. "We just need a form of I.D., Ms. Free," the concierge said politely. I opened my purse, but couldn't find my wallet. I poured out everything, lip gloss, mints, and stale m&m's flew across the hotel lobby. My wallet, however, was no where to be found. During my last attempt to keep my sleep deprived body pumped with caffeine, I had forgotten my wallet at the pick-up counter at Starbucks. I immediately ran to the store, but to no avail. My wallet was gone. I was stuck, I couldn't check into the hotel, I had no money to buy any food, and I couldn't call my parents without hearing the words "I told you so".
What I had hope to be my first taste of freedom, ended in failure. I eventually built up the courage to call my parents, who immediately put me back on the next train home. During my measly six hours of independence, however, I became an adult. My attempt to prove my parents wrong was unsuccessful, but I accepted my defeat and kept my head high. I had learned that the independence and freedom I had so hopelessly wished for throughout my teens, was not what I had expected. Being an adult means much more than choosing your own bedtime and having dessert before dinner. Adulthood requires a certain sense of maturity, including the maturity to face your mistakes and learn from them. I may not have fully tasted the freedom full-adulthood provides, but I had tasted the first slice of my cake of adulthood.
Discuss an accomplishment or event, formal or informal, that marked your transition from childhood to adulthood within your culture, community, or family.
Throughout my entire life, travelling has always been a staple. My parents took me to the sandy beaches of the Galapagos before I could even speak, I saw Big Ben before I could even read a clock and I ziplined through the rainforests of Costa Rica before I weighed enough to make it all the way across. Every summer was filled with road trips across a new foreign country. However, for this past summer, I had another idea.
Though I was well versed in travelling, my parents never allowed me to travel by myself. Every idea I came up with was immediately shot down with, "you're not old enough" or "ask me about that later", which we all know as parent-code for "not going to happen". I was always shocked by my parents hatred of the idea because I had not lived a sheltered life. I would always wander my neighborhood until sundown, and I started watching CSI and Criminal Minds in second grade. After years of badgering, I had finally worn them down with a trip to New York City. "Allowing you to travel on your own is the last sliver of the cake of childhood," my mother had said, "We've tried to keep you our little baby girl for as long as we could." My mother assured me that in order for me to go, I had to arrangements everything myself. I booked a hotel, bought my train tickets and anxiously awaited eating away at the last slice of my childhood cake.
The night before my trip, my bags were all packed but my dreams of freedom and the taste of sweet independence I was going to enjoy, kept me awake. Visions of me strutting down Broadway with my iced latte while every passerby stopped to stare, began a whirlwind of fantasies of what tomorrow would bring. By the time my alarm rang, I had only slept just shy of 15 minutes, but adrenaline and caffeine was running through my veins. With my heart pounding, I hugged my parents goodbye and walked toward the train, the last slice of my cake getting smaller and smaller with each step I took.
"Now arriving at Grand Central Station!" the train's loudspeakers announced. I quickly shuffled off the train, stopped by Starbucks, and promptly arrived at the hotel. "We just need a form of I.D., Ms. Free," the concierge said politely. I opened my purse, but couldn't find my wallet. I poured out everything, lip gloss, mints, and stale m&m's flew across the hotel lobby. My wallet, however, was no where to be found. During my last attempt to keep my sleep deprived body pumped with caffeine, I had forgotten my wallet at the pick-up counter at Starbucks. I immediately ran to the store, but to no avail. My wallet was gone. I was stuck, I couldn't check into the hotel, I had no money to buy any food, and I couldn't call my parents without hearing the words "I told you so".
What I had hope to be my first taste of freedom, ended in failure. I eventually built up the courage to call my parents, who immediately put me back on the next train home. During my measly six hours of independence, however, I became an adult. My attempt to prove my parents wrong was unsuccessful, but I accepted my defeat and kept my head high. I had learned that the independence and freedom I had so hopelessly wished for throughout my teens, was not what I had expected. Being an adult means much more than choosing your own bedtime and having dessert before dinner. Adulthood requires a certain sense of maturity, including the maturity to face your mistakes and learn from them. I may not have fully tasted the freedom full-adulthood provides, but I had tasted the first slice of my cake of adulthood.
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