I go through life, moving slowly along from childhood to adulthood, so quickly that I barely notice the time passing. Then one day I stop and find myself driving a car. Driving a car! Since when have I been old enough to do that? I am in control of a moving vehicle, capable of exacting horrible damage on anything it encounters. How did I get mature enough to do that? And I’m driving home, to where I live. Away from my parents’ house. I don’t live with my parents anymore. I’m an adult now. I’m wearing a business suit and pumps–and I’m not dressing up in Mom or Dad’s hand-me-downs. I’m an honest to goodness woman. I don’t have a child’s body anymore, I have a woman’s body. I’m not begging for a ride anymore-I’m in control of my own vehicle. I’m paying my own bills, signing my own papers. When I have a toothache, I can’t just tell Mom and she’ll get me an appointment. I need to make my own appointment. I buy my own clothes now. I wear makeup. When did I grow up? When did I become a woman? I’m not sure. Sometimes I wonder if I really have–I feel like a little girl playing house.
