This is the one word that I hate the most in the English language.  It’s something my mother said to me from a very young age, usually when I have having a fit about something changing. This could be anything from a new pair of shoes, rearranging the furniture, to a sudden schedule change.

To some of us, change is, and always will be the enemy.  As an adult I have learned to, while not adapt, accept that sudden changes will occur.  This doesn’t stop me from having that moment where I want to have the same “tantrum” I did when I was five, but I have learned that expressing that at 30 is frowned upon as childish.  It is assumed at 30 that I can’t cry in a store when I go to pick up my father’s Christmas present and they no longer sell it.  I have been told I should have better control than that, and I am generally ignored.  This now leads to me basically trying not to cry, which, sometimes, if I am lucky, I can.

Other days if I am tired, or hungry, or if its just been a long day, I am crying because after taking an hour to pick out new glasses frames the lady behind the counter says no they are too big and walks away.  FYI, i got the frames, I love them, and I still don’t know what her problem was, and ya, this happened over a year ago.

There is nothing worse at one of these moments than someone telling you to adapt, if I could just adapt that would be wonderful, why didn’t I think of that.  Well I did, and my hyperventilating lungs, and overflowing tear ducts just didn’t get the message.  And now, to make things worse, I am humiliated, by being told to adapt, get over it, and grow up.

Ultimately I did find something for dad for Christmas, but it wasn’t what I wanted to get him.  Which still bugs me.  But I got him something he won’t hate, so it’s all good.

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