Thoughts on Emotional Growth
Part of my new series,
Confessions of a Stay-at-Home-Daughter
Confession: Sometimes I fear that living with my parents as an adult will permanently stunt my emotional maturity.
It's worth noting that I grew up as an 'emotionally mature' child. After several hours of watching TikTok-distilled therapy videos, I learned that this title might not be such a positive phenomenon. Unfortunately, obsessively 'mature' or 'good' kids are often the ones that bottle up their emotions and develop an unhealthy relationship with perfectionism––both habits of which I am slightly guilty of having.
I have spent my late teen years and early young adulthood thus far working to remedy this mindset. I let myself get less-than-perfect grades and didn't cry when I saw it reflected on my report card. I wept in the movie theater and didn't care who saw me. I explored new friendships and fell in love.
I built a life I was happy with in college, and never took it for granted.
So, when all of my efforts were essentially dashed away when the world shut down for COVID, it was heartbreaking. I found myself in a different state from all my new friends, sharing a room with my little brother, baking cookies and being yelled at to clean the kitchen afterwards.
There was a depressing lack of interacting with anyone my own age, and the invisible freedoms that come with college life had also been taken away from me.
It was high school all over again, but with more sleep and less friends, and I found that the trade-off was not desirable. (To clarify: Like most bookish individuals, I am not the kind of person who particularly loved high school to begin with).
Now, I have graduated from college and am back living at home, again. Time has slipped and warped in its usual post-covid way, and I often lose track of my place in the year. This, along with the fact that I am still often in the kitchen baking cookies and being told to wash the dishes after, often leads to me feeling like my life has stilted its growth.
Yet I am not here to write a depressing article, or to make anyone feel sorry for me. Rather, I'd like to offer a beacon of empathy and encouragement to all other stay-at-home-adult-children in the world. I believe we can still be growing up, even in our childhood bedrooms! For brevity's sake, I will list some emotional victories that can be attained in this season of life:
1. Healing any relational trauma with your family members.
My mother and I have had many arguments over the last couple years, but I'd estimate that 75% of them resulted in positive change in our relationship.
2. Learning to set boundaries.
On your space, on your time, and on your emotional plate.
3. Being yourself.
They say that no prophet is accepted in their hometown (actually the Bible says this, about Jesus). I find that it is true in a more humble sense as well: often, parents and childhood friends won't be able to see the fullness of who you are growing into, at first. But with patience, you can show them who you are and navigate the newness of relating to them in this way.
4. Being intentional with friendship.
News flash: you can no longer make friends just by living next door to them in a dorm hall or sitting next to them in class. Take this time to sign up for stuff, meet people, schedule calls with old friends, and exercise those atrophied social muscles.
5. Rooting your sense of self-worth in something deeper.
'You're an A student? Not anymore. Now you're living in your childhood bedroom, possibly unemployed, with zero life prospects'..... This is what the little gremlin in your brain might be telling you, but fret not; you will always be worthy, wonderful and loved, regardless of your residence or employment status. It's time to start acting like you're meant to be exactly where you are.
These are some of the lessons that, upon reflection, I realize I have learned over the last couple years. It brings me great joy to share these, because for most of the time while I was learning the lessons, I thought that my life was frozen in stagnancy. But thoughts can lie, and healthy hindsight can point out the starlight in even the darkest of seasons.
I hope that if you are also struggling to look upon your own life with kindness, this testimony can provide some comfort and perspective.
Love always,
Anika
