Everything comes full circle. At least that’s what they say. In our formative years, todo se nos hace facíl, and it’s honestly hard to accept that this is one of the realities of life. We think our parents are being dramatic when they say it, or that conocidos are telling cuentos when inevitably this statement makes its way into any number of conversations. To the inexperienced young ear it could even sound more like a precautionary warning being tossed out to stop us from doing what we have decided is the best thing for us.
Because after all, we know better. Don’t we?!
Only the truth is, we don’t. I am not saying that it is impossible to know best at a young age, but speaking from my own experience, we don’t always have the benefit of experience (valga la redundancia) on our side when we are in the younger versions of ourselves. And how could we? How could we impart our own experiences onto others. No matter how much we would want to avoid them the heartaches or headaches of learning for themselves. Some things we just have to learn for ourselves. That’s why we call it the school of hard-knocks, ¿o no?
Alright, so what the hell am I talking about? This line of thinking has been weighing on my mind quite a bit lately. Decisions I was so certain of in my twenties and thirties I am not so sure about today. Things I thought and said along the way haven’t aged well. And now as a parent in my mid-forties with a young twenty-something adult coming into himself I can’t help but to reflect on the similarities. Without knowing and largely without the intent to, we teach our children to repeat the cycles they grew up around. Good or bad, they have learned some of their most important life lessons from us. And in the back of my mind so many of the conversations I had with my parents at his age are playing on repeat now – reminding me that after all, life is a cycle and that everything comes full circle.
It reminds me as much as I want to resist that I am the adult in the room now. I no longer have the advantage or privilege of ignorant bliss. I am, in fact, old enough to know better and there is a certain level of expectation that comes with the gray hairs in my head.
In full transparency though, I do have to admit that only after my 44th birthday this year did I actually begin to feel like an adult. Up until now in my mind I was always one of the young adults or adult kids in the room. There were always “grown ups” somewhere in close proximity to handle the big stuff.
I’m grappling with the fact that people are looking to me now to be the grown up.
¡Que Dios nos agarre confesados!
