Starting to feel like a grown-up

I am not comfortable with being a grown-up. Responsible adult? Yes. Being “the sensible one”? Quite definitely. Having a mortgage and a job? Done that; doing that. But real, actual grown-upness? Knowing what I’m doing? No. Not comfortable with that, at all. 

I’ve been very happy with my status as the baby on a team; I’ve reminded people of it continually. I bring cakes to work because “the junior brings the snacks”. I have to pause before I answer the phone with “registrar” ( and I still forget sometimes); I walk to work reminding myself what my job title is…

So, no. I am not comfortable with being a “grown-up” and that is not how I see myself. In fact, it’s something that I will run screaming from. Or so I thought.

I’ve had a fantastic week (I know it’s only Thursday; there is so much potential for things to even themselves out). I’ve been to the BMA’s annual meeting; I’ve met some fantastic young people who want to apply for medical school at a “speed mentoring” event; and I’ve eaten some great steak and drunk lovely wine with an amazing team of foundation year academics. 

And I’ve had it forced home that I am an adult now. I’m a grown-up. There are some advantages: people listen a little bit more; there’s some experience that I can share (even if it is that stuff is hard and life can be really, really sh*t at times).  I can see things changing, improving…

I’m definitely not a “guru” – although I still think that should come with some kind of hat/cape combination – but I might be ready to start being a grown-up…

Now… Where’s the Lego?


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