When I was 9 years old I wanted to dye my hair blond. My parents, for whatever reason, allowed it and I think most of my issues today can be traced back to that particular action.
I am sure they knew it was a terrible idea, and they believed that I would one day look back and, after much therapy, learn some sort of lesson and grow from it. That hasn’t happened yet, but I will keep you updated.
This was also before I had been blessed with the orthodontic miracle of braces, so I’m certain I looked like a beaver that had taken a bath in bleach. You’ll have to take my word for it because I have since destroyed all photographic evidence of that era of my life.
My scapegoat for coloring my hair as a fourth grader is that someone gave me permission to do it, so I can’t be blamed entirely for the socially inept monster it created.
Transitioning from 9 to 21 was a long, uncomfortable process that inconceivably only got worse after the blond faded out. I think I missed out on a key part of growing up, because here I am, 12 years later, still making truly regrettable decisions.
Last semester, I decided finals week was the perfect time to get consumed with “The Young and the Restless.” I am thoroughly embarrassed by this; my ears burn with shame whenever I speak of it. However, that didn’t stop me from getting far too emotionally invested in fictional people’s lives when I should have been studying for exams.
One of the many differences between being a bottle-blonde 9-year-old and a soap opera-obsessed 21-year-old is that I can’t blame my parents for my poor decisions anymore, and that has been something I have had trouble coping with.
Being solely responsible for my choices is a high-pressure task that, most days, I feel vastly unprepared to take on. It was easy to blame the government shutdown for a while, but since that ended, I have been at a loss for who should take the fall for my problems.
The light at the end of the tunnel is we are at an age when it is not the end of the world if we mess up once or twice every now and then. College has so much more to offer than weekly anxiety attacks and mountains of student loans. Namely, we have countless opportunities to get up and try again when our mistakes knock us down.
I don’t expect myself or anybody to make only wise choices because that is just not going to happen. What’s important is, when we choose to do not-so-smart things like watch “The Young and the Restless,” we say: “This is my decision. It’s probably a bad one, but tomorrow I’ll live with the consequences and complain about them on Twitter like a real grown-up.”
Taking ownership for our problems is mature enough. Let’s take baby steps into adulthood.
