Maturity.
I remember the first time I heard that word. I was in the fifth grade and my report card had just arrived. In the comments section my teacher mentioned that I was extremely “mature”. Being that English was a relatively new language for me, seriously, I didn’t even know what the word cucumber meant until I was about ten, I asked my parents what it meant. They tried to explain it to me, but um yah...I still didn’t get it. The older I got, the more I would I heard this word thrown around.
Mature. Mature. Mature.
For years I hid behind this word. My extreme “maturity” became my blanket. It allowed me to hide from the world. I didn’t need to give in to social pressure; I was too mature for that. I didn’t need to have fun; I was too mature for that. I didn’t need to put aside the wishes and embrace my own thoughts and ideas about the world; I was too mature for that.
My friends, family, and teachers all admired me for my maturity and yet I still didn’t know what the word truly meant. I thought perhaps maturity was just a lack of immaturity and all I knew was that I would never want to be immature.
And then I got sick of it. Living your life for others can be pretty tiring. I got tired of the same redundant, tedious actions and so I embraced what many people considered immaturity. I thought for myself, did what I wanted, and generally stopped thinking about the consequences. If I was passionate about something, whether or not it made sense to anyone else, I pursued it. I mean, think about it, imagine an obese, yes I was clinically obese, person telling you they want to become a dietician in a top hospital one day. Wouldn’t you laugh? People did laugh. They told me to go for something that would suit me better, something that didn’t seem to contradict my very essence.
Imagine if I had listened to them…imagine if I had squashed my thoughts, my passion, my drive.
And the pattern continued. I remember finding out all the Chem classes that I would have to take. The high GPA I would have to maintain to even get into a program. The competition I would have to face.
I remember my first semester in school. I got into the lowest math class possible. Arithmetic. I was sitting in a class with people who didn’t even know basic math. I aint talking about my good friends cos, sin, and tan. I’m talking about long division. Seriously, long division is the bane of my existence. But I passed. I moved on. After all those years of getting by without learning math, I finally dealt with it. I remember finishing my last math class and someone told me, “Honestly, I never thought you could do it. I thought you would for sure give up at some point, become a secretary in one of these Jewish firms and get married to the first guy that came along”. Well I guess that didn’t happen, did it? J
So what does all this have to do with maturity? Savlanut Motek, savlanut.
I’ve been in school for three years now. Three tough years. I’m talking physically, emotionally, and mentally. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices. I went against a lot of people’s opinions. I did what I wanted and I’ve never been happier Baruch Hashem. Life hasn’t gotten easier, but I’ve gotten more capable of dealing with it. I have become more mature.
I have learned that in life sometimes it’s okay not to be okay. Maturity isn’t a certain type of behavior or a lack of immaturity. Maturity is defined by self-awareness. Maturity is knowing who you are, what you stand for, and why you stand for it. Maturity is knowing how your past relates to your future without allowing your past to define your future. Maturity means forgiving but not necessarily forgetting. Maturity means that you can accept and understand all your emotions and qualities, whether positive or negative, embrace them equally and channel them all towards self growth and awareness. Maturity does not mean never getting angry, it means knowing when to be passionate and when to let go.
Maturity doesn’t mean hiding behind your problems like everything is okay, like you are invincible, it means facing your problems head on and understanding what your buttons are and why they are there.
There are times where we all act like a petulant child. Sometimes we need it. Sometimes it is just a defense mechanism because we can’t cope with the pain and reality of what just hit us. Sometimes maturity is understanding at times that it’s okay to act immature, to revert into a passive aggressive role in order to heal as long as it is not a permanent role.
How do you define maturity? Comment below :)
