I had coffee with a guy last week and to be honest, I can’t remember his name. He bored me. He painfully bored me. He asked me questions like what kind of music I liked and what kind of food I preferred.
He was dressed in a nice suit, he combed his hair, he showed off how together he had his life while simultaneously presuming I’d like a small coffee – he was a square. But he was adulting, he did it “right.” He went to college, got an office job, purchased some suits and smiled when he felt like he had his life together.
And then there was me.
I’ve been living out of bags on the floor in a room that isn’t mine, I haven’t looked in a mirror all day and it’s well into the afternoon. I ate cold leftover pizza for lunch and drank 3 margaritas last night just because. Last night I cleaned an apartment with a girl I didn’t know for 3.5 hours. We talked, we laughed, we shared stories and then we went our separate ways. I basically dumpster dove through other people’s junk they didn’t want over the weekend with a 40-year-old man I didn’t know. Then I had him help me break into my house because the key wasn’t working. We talked, we laughed, we joked about the things we found and jumping through a window then we went our separate ways.
I’ve slept in houses of people I didn’t know, I’ve stayed in hostels with strangers, I’ve relied on the kindness of other’s to lead me where I’m supposed to go. Just yesterday I met a man named Jorge when I was struggling to fit a chair in my car. He offered to bring it over later himself, and he did just because.
I’ve laughed with people who I’ve barely been able to communicate with. I’ve cried with Uber drivers. I’ve met up with people from the internet more times than I can count. I swear way more than what’s acceptable and I hate kids. I’ve done things that other adults frown upon; I live for the moments that other adults frown upon me because those are the moments that make me feel most alive.
I can sit down with a man who wears a suit and feel nothing other than his lack of character getting too close to me. I can wear nice, expensive dress pants and high-heeled shoes that make me want to cry from pain. I can sit in an office and pretend I’m happy because I feel like I have my shit together but none of that is going to make me truly happy.
Finding a relationship, an office job, dressing “stylish” and having a minimalist apartment sound like hell.
I want to live a messy, fulfilling, wild and adventurous life. I want to show up to first dates with holes in my jeans, carrying a worn elephant bag I bought in Bangkok for 100 bhat. I want to make friends with strangers, I want to wake up when I feel like rolling out of bed, I want to travel the world and run around with bare feet. I want to do all the things that fill my soul with passion, all the things that society looks down upon because it’s not “together” or “professional.” I want to do those things because those are the things that make me feel like life is worth living, so I’m not going to stop.
I don’t care about adulting – I care about living a fulfilling life with lots of laughter, memories, and stories. I don’t want to be miserable, saving for a house I can’t afford and a life I don’t want to live. I don’t want to pretend to want to have it together when I don’t. I want to take life one day at a time. I want to discover things that touch my heart, put my faith in the generosity of strangers and hopefully touch other’s lives like they touch mine.
I don’t care what my life looks like from the outside to you because I know I’m living a life that fulfills me. It’s okay that this life I’m living doesn’t involve getting coffee with boring men (at least not a second time) and pretending I want to slow down and settle down when I have no interest in that.
I’m not together, I have never been together and who knows when I will be. But what I do know is that I’ve always been happy living this life unconventionally. I know not sticking to a routine, not pretending to have it together and just laughing a little to pretend I’m amused when adults ask me when I plan to “get a real job and settle down” or my favorite when I plan to “find a boyfriend,” like my life is incomplete without those things.
I don’t care about adulting because being an adult and doing the typical “adult” things doesn’t mean I’ll be happy. And not choosing that life doesn’t make me any less of an adult.
There are a million different paths you can take, so why not go with the one that brings you happiness, even if it’s not the one society tells you to take?