Never Grow Up

 One of the things that frustrates me the most about myself sometimes is that I don’t really feel like an adult .

Sometimes when I say that, people say “None of us feel like adults, but we suck it up and act like adults.”

I don’t think they understand.

I’m a grown adult who looks like they’re 14 and is socially and emotionally close to a 9 or 10 year old. 

I am able to “fake” like I’m an adult for short periods of time, like when I’m at work. This involves doing things like being careful about the way I talk, trying not to jump or flap or move around in ways that are unusual for adults, trying to imitate an adult “character” I can think of, and second guessing every movement and decision I make. 

Then when I get home, I want to jump and flap, I want to color, I want to swing, I want to splash in puddles. And get very emotionally dependent on the people I trust, 

Sometimes when I’m at my happiest it’s at a moment when I am “acting” like a kid… like when me and Chuck went to Target so I could use my gift certificate, and I got a Squishmallow and a coloring book, and I was so happy I was jumping… but then I catch site of a woman about my age, buying groceries with her kids in tow, running a household and maybe also working full time. Mature. Age appropriate. And there’s this pang in my stomach, this voice in my head that says, “THAT is what you’re supposed to be right now. You’re not a little kid who should be at the store with her dad buying a toy. You’re a freak of nature.”

And I get so sad because I know I will never grow up.

I told Chuck this one day. I tried to explain how it makes me want to crumple myself up and kick myself into the sun.

When I see Facebook posts from people I went to school with, and they’re posting pics of their first grandchild. Their grandchild. And meanwhile I’m laying on the floor crying because I didn’t get downstairs in time to go to the car wash with Chuck. 

I’m an anomaly. 

Chuck said, “I accept you the way you are. So does Jae. And Maggie.” He names all of the people we know who are not bothered by the way I jump and flap and spin when I’m excited or by how I pretty much live in overalls and Converse sneakers, or by the fact that I need help with things and I get upset or anxious easily (especially when I’m alone.) 

Maybe some people actually like me the way I am. 

And I don’t think I’d want to spend my life trying to act like someone I’m not. 

But still. Sometimes I feel like my whole life is a giant mistake.