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It turns out, growing up isn’t something you can always do alone.
Ever since I was a baby, I’ve been pretty independent. It was my twin brother who needed to be constantly held. While I liked to crawl around by myself on the carpet. And when we got older my brother liked to play video games while I walked around our neighborhood, daydreaming about eventually having my own job and house.
But a few months after moving out on my own, things got real. Like sometimes at the end of the month, I would only have enough money for rent, but not for food. Or I’d be stressing out about registering for classes, trying to balance school and work.
The adult life I was building for myself felt like a Jenga set I was building that might come crashing down at any moment. Finally, I did what I told myself I would absolutely definitely would not do. I asked for help.
And even though it was painful, it’s probably one of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned. I’ve realized that being independent doesn’t always mean I have to go it alone.