Tuesday, November 19, 2024
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Lesotho

Adulting…

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By Kabelo Mollo

Every day we wake up, attend to matters that require guile, lateral thinking, compassion, activity and lots more. Every day we’re faced with a reality that doesn’t allow for weakness nor slowness to act. This is colloquially referred to as adulting.

By far the most difficult thing anybody has ever gone through. If you’ve ever heard someone say “we laugh to keep from crying” then you know that person has met the challenges of growing up head on. Between mounting bills and debts as well as work stress and then a government that can’t help but do things that add to the existing problem it’s a wonder that we merely soldier on without going crazy. It’s no wonder our therapists charge us the sums they do, we’re giving them a hell of a lot to deal with. We’re unburdening ourselves while burdening them with some really quite heavy stuff.

When I was a child, and reasoned like one I thought that one day, when I was fully grown I would be allowed to determine my own destiny by making my own decisions. For instance, I wouldn’t have a bedtime, meaning I could watch Manchester United’s Champions league matches to the end.

I wouldn’t have school, meaning I wouldn’t have to sit through double Afrikaans or double physics or the worst of them double mathematics. Imagine sitting in a math class for ninety whole minutes learning about sin, cos and tan. Three things I knew then as I do now, that I will never ever use! By the way, isn’t it funny that school never offered doubly “P.E”? Physical education as it was known was by the far the best lesson school offered, but it always came in single units. What gives educators?!

 By the time my twenties arrived and people recognised me as a “young adult” I could see that we had had the proverbial wool pulled over our eyes. I could see the trouble looming in the horizon. Mounting responsibility which had never been due to one, and growing problem solving techniques that were never part of the plan. Suddenly a need to form a relationship with the revenue authority because you’re going to pay tax. Out of nowhere medical aid must be paid for. While you’re reeling from all of that, somebody tells you it’s time to start saving up for your retirement too. Plan ahead they tell you.

I feel like we have been “sold dreams” as the young people would say. We were told this thing is going to be nightclubs and quaffing champagne till the wee hours. We were promised fast cars and big houses. Nobody ever attached nuance to any of those dreams. Work hard, and keep your head down and one day all your wishes will come true. Marry a good woman, who will build a household and family and live a long fulfilled life. What about all the trauma that we’ll face in the workplace? Why weren’t we told about that? And why did it seem like finding a good woman who will build a household will be a piece of cake?! These dreams we were sold…

During the level five lockdown we endured in 2020 a friend made a comment that our generation would either come out of this as the most skilled adults, or it would break us once and for all. As we’re yet to see the back of the whole thing, I’m not exactly sure where we are on that scale of possibilities, but I know that this whole adulting malarkey is by far the toughest thing I have ever had to do. I don’t for the life of me understand how generations that went before us are doing it with so little gnashing of teeth. Why are they so calm? Just getting on with things as though struggle is normal? What kind of teflon are they made of?!

Some days, when I am sitting reflectively looking at the awesome things I got up to in what I sometimes refer to as a misspent youth, I wonder whether it will ever be like that again. It’s not a real thought, because I know the answer instinctively. Firstly, my wisdom wouldn’t allow some of those things to occur but more importantly, my body is no longer designed to do the bulk of those crazy things. This body is now in peak condition to sit at a desk and type away at a laptop or sit on a couch and hurl obscenities at a referee who can’t see what he or she is doing. This body is now ready and primed to be a “dad bod”.

Woe betide to those youth wishing they can just be adults. It’s really not all it’s cracked up to be!

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