Older but none the wiser

Mother Brushing Daughter's TeethAs I write this, Iā€™m facing a countdown to getting my wisdom teeth removed. Less than 24 hours, and Iā€™ll have finished with another of those procedures, woes, and rites of passage that plague adolescence.

The removal of wisdom teeth seems particularly paradoxical, if taken with that oh-so-convenient joke about wisdom teeth and actual wisdom. Iā€™ve been gradually abandoning those aforementioned adolescent rites of passage, what with growinā€™ up, movinā€™ out, and takinā€™ on more of those adult responsibilities that nobody likes. Even as I get older though, and assumedly wiser, any alleged wisdom will always be curbed by my youth.

Iā€™ll be staying at my parentsā€™ for the first time since I moved out while I recover from surgery, and the prospect of returning to my parentsā€™ for this procedure which is so closely associated with youth is emphasizing how both young and not-young I am now. I live on my own, work full-time, go to school full-time, and my life decisions donā€™t always require my parentsā€™ approval anymore; conversely, I will continue to need my parents for financial support (especially for pricy medical procedures, like the looming orthodontic ordeal), and Iā€™ll always need their emotional support and advice.

Itā€™s a bizarre tension between moving away from childhood and remaining squarely in juvenescence, and itā€™s a tension I expect Iā€™ll stay in for years to come. As just one example, Millennialsā€™ financial prospects are uncertain at best: weā€™re slowly edging out Baby Boomers; gradually paying off debt accrued through studying for degrees that are supposed to hook us high-paying jobs but which, in all likelihood, wonā€™t present tangible reward anytime soon; and facing down market insecurity created by Baby Boomersā€™ financial shenanigans. This should go great, right?

Itā€™s why weā€™re living with our parents, putting off getting married or having kids, and staying in school as long as possible to avoid entering the ā€œreal world.ā€ We inhabit the nebulous territory of adults with adult obligations, who canā€™t quite function without someone propping us up in the right direction.

Unsurprisingly, existing in tension can be uncomfortable and off-putting at times. Grateful as I am that I can accept my parentsā€™ generosity, Iā€™m looking forward to the day when I can be more or less financially independent. The freedom of having my parents to fall back on if I need to is great, but having moved out I feel less and less like I should take advantage of their help. As much as I know theyā€™re always there for me, part of growing up is having those awful, horrendous responsibilities that nobody wants. I donā€™t especially want to grow up and start worrying about silly adult concernsā€”did I use too much hydro this month?ā€”but I also donā€™t want to be a perpetual Peter Pan.

Staying with my parents, while delightful, emphasizes for me how much I appreciate living on my own. Donā€™t get me wrong, theyā€™re wonderful and lovely, and they coddle me just right when Iā€™m recovering from surgery; but my home isnā€™t with them anymore. Iā€™ve forged a home thatā€™s with my roommate and his cat, and our rotating door of couch-crashers following an evening of hookah and snacks. My life is different from what it was when I lived with my parents.

Every time I see my mom, she double-checks in her maternally protective way if Iā€™m doing ok: ā€œAre you alright? Do you need anything?ā€ I do miss my brother and parents, living relatively close to them in the Lower Mainland but far enough away that coming out for family dinners can be a trek; on the whole though, moving out was among the best things I could have done for myself. Itā€™s pushed me to grow up, in a way that I wouldnā€™t have if Iā€™d stayed with my parents. While I relish in visiting my family and being cared for as only parents can, Iā€™ll revel in returning home.

Hello gorgeous,

Natalie Serafini