Who Has It Harder: Kids or Adults?

My vote? Kids!

Yes, I’m an adult who thinks kids have it harder.

Life is generally hard, no matter what, but if there needs to be a vote, I say kids.

“But kids live and eat rent-free, have no responsibilities, yadda yadda!”

First of all, kids are forced to attend school, which absolutely is a responsibility. Kids have a 40-hour “work” week by the time they start learning how to read. Even my internship – a job I do without pay, so close enough – is only 30 hours a week, and I can choose whether I want to leave at 2:30 or 3:00. I can also take my lunch any time I want. Kids don’t have that freedom.

That’s why I say kids have it harder: they have no freedom. I remember feeling powerless as a kid, having zero say in anything that affected me, no matter how bad it was, being told to “stay in a child’s place”, and being assumed to be stupid because a child couldn’t possiby be right over an adult. As a kid, I could say the sky was blue, an adult could say it was pink, and I’d better not correct them because “I’m an adult and what I say is right”.

Yes, as an adult, I have to pay bills and money is a necessity. But, to an extent, I can choose where to work, and I will be compensated for my time with money. It’s outright illegal if I’m not. While I’m not paid for internship (I presume the laws are different for that), I still choose to be here and I come here because I want to, not because I’ll be punished if I don’t. I’d rather pay bills and have choices – freedom – in my life than give up the latter for lack of the former.

I can travel without supervison, stay out after dark (I go to the gym on occasion in the evening), don’t need permission to go outside, can decorate my room how I like, can buy my own electronics, can watch the shows I want without arguing over the television with my sister, can listen to the music I like, everything in my room belongs to me instead of someone else because “I bought it, so you’re just borrowing it”. I really could go on for a long time. I’ve spoken a lot on this blog about how my childhood sucked and my family is broken, but even if I had the most carefree, idyllic childhood imaginable, I think my feelings would be the same.

  • Kids have to stand for and recite the pledge of allegiance every morning. As a kid, I thought that was stupid, and as an adult, I still do. But I no longer have to do it! (Side note: No, reciting the pledge doesn’t mean someone respects the country. The peers who made my school life miserable recited it. You can’t claim to respect the country when you have no respect for people in the country.)
  • Kids have curfews and bedtimes. I might be tired, but if I want to go to bed at 1am on a “work” night, yay! More internet time!
  • No parental controls! Yes, I understand why they exist. I’m still glad I don’t have to deal with them! And I can lock my devices to keep other people out!
  • “No, you can’t have pizza for breakfast.” I can now!
  • I have a more decorated room now than I did as a kid. Because I buy everything for it, right down to my computer. Though, my favorite thing would be the plethora of stuffed animals on my bed.
  • Want something, but can’t buy it? As a kid, you’re out of luck. As an adult, unless money is extremely tight, you can save up for it. That’s how I got my computer!
  • I don’t get my hair done unless I want to. I admit this one is more personal, but I’m sure I’ve spoken about how obsessive my family is about appearance. My mother forced me to have hair extensions and styles I did not want that took hours, and yelled at me and degraded my appearance when I argued. Now, my family still complains, but I no longer have to abide by them, and they eventually shut up for the most part.
  • Kids wear the clothes their parents buy them. I wear the clothes I buy me. Without getting yelled at for not matching (Fashion rules can kiss my behind!).

I know most of what I listed are small things, but as Pinkie Pie once said, “One small thing can be the biggest thing of all”. Freedom is addicting! I remember when I first got my own room. I haven’t shared a room since, minus the time I lived in a homeless shelter, because after a taste of what it was like to have my own space and privacy (to the small extent I could with a sibling), I could never go back! It’s why my boyfriend and I will have separate rooms when we move in together. He’s never had his own room and I want him to experience that. I know he’ll be as addicted as me!

The only downside is people don’t think adults are cute like they do kids. But I wasn’t a cute kid (regularly got called ugly and was hated solely because I existed in some people’s space), so I didn’t have even that.

I’ll take adulthood and all of its challenges any day. That opinion may vary on some days, but I’d say 80% of the time, it’s a given.

I’m Free!

Today, I was called to my county’s courthouse to be part of a selection of people to serve as grand jurors. After a long morning of monotonous waiting and uncomfortably sitting on wood, I’m happy to report I was not chosen!

Yes, you read that correctly. I was not chosen. And I’m very happy about that! 😀

Here’s the thing. If I’d only have to serve two weeks, which is the sentence of a petit juror, I’d have no objections. But for a grand juror, the serving sentence is nine weeks! No! Too much time! Way too long! “Civic duty”, my behind! That’s what I call punishment! Heck, just all that waiting today felt like I was being punished!

I have three years before I have a chance of being called again. I hope I’m not living in this county by that time! I hate moving, but I’ll move if it decreases my chances of being called! I’d move to another country!

But for now, it’s behind me, so I’m celebrating my freedom! 😀

Mundane Monday: Bigger Is Better

Nostalgic

Sometimes, less is more. Sometimes, bigger is better. The latter applies here because when I say “bigger”, I mean “adult”.

Alright, I guess I’m not part of the adult world yet. I’m still a dependent, still in high school, have never had a job and don’t have to pay for my basic needs. I hate that.

No one could pay me to return to childhood. It’s not even the fact that my childhood sucked. It’s that I don’t like being small, unless it’s in regards to my weight. Sure, I still have people who think I’m stupid because of my age, but the difference is now, I can tell those people to bug off or curse them out if they get on my nerves. I don’t have to just take it. I can actually argue with somebody and call them out on their words. Or I can entirely ignore them.

I can also protect myself, to an extent. Of course, I’m far from being the biggest person out there, but I’m not so small that anyone is free to smack me around or hit me with objects anymore (you can probably guess what I’m referring to). And if someone does, I can either fight back or file assault charges against them. Heck, going by the incident I had with that teacher, I could file charges for somebody simply touching me.

My favorite thing about being an adult has more to do with the actual age than size. It’s the freedom that comes with that stage. Or I guess the eventual freedom in my case. I confess I’m a little obsessed with that and am probably fantasizing a little, but it’s hard not to since I’ve never had total control of anything. Makes me think of how when I was a child and used to think about kids, I only wanted them to control and boss around. Bad.

Speaking of which, however, I also like how I have the ability to be empathetic now. Being poor means “struggling to provide basic needs to yourself or others” instead of “not being able to afford a toy”. Without that ability, I wouldn’t have the friends I do now and while most friendships do change over the years, it still doesn’t change that I probably wouldn’t have any friends in the first place if I was still incapable of empathy.

However, all of this said…

Kermit

Although, I never liked Kermit much. Just didn’t watch him.

Finally, some independence!

The first day of school was on Friday. It was pretty good. Best of all, I get out at 2:14 and so does my best friend. We have the same class for our final period and it’s right down the hall from the exit, so we can just go out.

Shortly before dismissal, my friend asked me if I could walk home with her from school. Not that day, but starting Monday and from then on. Our other friends leave at 4:00 (regular dismissal time), so she would be walking alone. I imagine that’s why she asked me.

It also happened that my grandfather was coming with my uncle to pick me up, which, for once, was a good thing. I introduced my friend to and – OMFG – got his permission to walk home with my friend! The overprotective granddad actually said yes!

Finally, some freedom!

My friend would go home first and then, I’d just have to walk a block alone to my house. Unfortunately, I got the “don’t go with strangers” talk from my grandfather, but I guess that’s standard.

Well, this year is off to a good start. That was worth getting up at 5:30 in the morning!