This whole “figuring out my life” phase has been a great opportunity for growth, but it’s completely terrifying when I really think about the magnitude of choices to be made. Grad school, for one, is an incredibly expensive choice that could ruin me financially down the road. It won’t (because maniacal plans are apparently my thing), but it could.
Adding to that, because one mortal fear isn’t enough, I’m trying to find a house. I finally have a job that is stable, which gives me the security to stand still for a while without a stifling panic that I should be looking for my next gig. I can settle, which makes the idea of paying rent chafe uncomfortably. But how does one begin to choose a house? They require so much work, care, attention – things I’ve been trying to worry about on a personal level, let alone property.
I’m lucky, and I live a privileged life with parents who worked very hard to give me every opportunity I could dare to dream. Though I’m taking on the financial burden of school and house hunting on my own, I know they would help in any way they can if I got myself into trouble. As grateful as I can, I refuse to become a burden on them or anyone else. Growing up means taking responsibility, as scary as it might be.
And boy, is it scary when the tuition bills come in. Send a girl some good wishes of luck, would you?