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.