Iβm Ada, 29. Two years ago I thought βadultingβ meant having my own apartment, a 9-to-5 job, and buying whatever I wanted on payday. Nobody told me it would feel this lonely.
The thing adulthood taught me that nobody prepares you for is this: You have to parent yourself when nobody else will.
I moved to Lagos for work at 25. My parents were proud, my friends hyped me up. βYouβre on your own now!β Yeah. On my own.
In my first month, I got sick,not dramatically, just a 39Β°C fever that kept me in bed. In school, Mum would bring paracetamol and garri. Here, I emailed HR, dragged myself to buy drugs, boiled water, and sat alone in my one bedroom flat in Surulere waiting for the fever to break. Nobody came. Nobody even knew.
I cried that day, not because of the fever, but because I realised if I didnβt take care of myself, nobody would.
Then came the quiet bills. Rent and school fees are loud, but nobody warns you about the β¦8,000 PHCN estimated billing when you barely used light, the β¦25,000 to fix a phone screen cracked at 9pm on your way home, or the β¦20,000 hospital deposit before theyβll even see you. These bills sit silently until your power goes off or your account is empty.
The hardest part? You canβt call your mum for everythingβshe has her own bills in Kwara. You canβt tell your friends because theyβre all posting βsoft lifeβ on Instagram and you donβt want to be the broke one. So you learn to plan, keep a β¦10,000 βoh shitβ fund, and say no to owambe when your account says no.
But hereβs what nobody prepares you for: it makes you stronger and colder at the same time.
Stronger because I now fix my own PHCN token, argue with NEPA, and negotiate rent without my brotherβs help.
Colder because I stopped expecting people to show up. If I donβt remind myself to eat, I skip meals. If I donβt book my own doctorβs appointment, it doesnβt happen.
Last month my younger sister called at 2am crying because her boyfriend cheated. I stayed on the phone for two hours, made her tea over video call, and reassured her it would be okay. After hanging up, I sat in my room thinking: βWho does that for me?β Absolutely nobody.
So I do it for myself now. I set reminders to drink water. I take myself out for suya after a bad week. I tell myself βyouβre doing okayβ when the quiet bills win.
Adulthood didnβt break me. It taught me that self-parenting is real, unpaid, 24/7 work. Nobody prepares you for the silence that comes with it. But once you get used to it, you stop waiting to be saved.
And thatβs when you actually start living.
Whatβs that one thing adulthood has taught you that nobody really prepares you for?