There’s a moment. It’s not marked by a birthday or a job title or buying a house. It’s the quiet, sometimes realisation that no one’s coming to save you.
Adulthood isn’t a destination, it’s a dawning. A slow unveiling of truth that hits hardest when you’re low: you’ve got to heal yourself. Learn for yourself. Push yourself. Pay your own bills. There’s no one else. No safety net. No applause for just getting through. And no, most people don’t care. Some, if we’re being real, don’t even want to see you do well.
It sounds bleak—and in the early stages, it is. It’s a stark contrast to the comfort of childhood, where there was always someone to soften the fall. But here’s the flip side: there’s something wildly liberating about it too. That moment of disengaging from the need for approval, for permission, for applause. When you stop waiting for someone to pick you, back you, catch you—that’s when you become an adult in the truest sense.
Because suddenly, you realise: I don’t need someone to catch me. I know how to fly.
That’s autonomy. That’s accountability. That’s freedom. And once you feel it, even for a second, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
3D5G 