The first time I felt grown up? It wasn’t when I thought it would be.

I was just a kid, barely 10. Every morning, before the sun was fully up, I’d drag myself out of bed. No time for cartoons or lazy breakfasts for me. The sheep were waiting.

But here’s the thing – I didn’t care about those sheep. Not really. They were just… there. Part of our home, but not my passion.

“Go feed the sheep,” my parents would say. No room for argument. No choice in the matter.

So I’d go, hauling hay, filling water troughs. My hands cold, my mind elsewhere. Thinking about school, about friends, about anything but those woolly responsibilities in our backyard.

I was doing adult work, yeah. Taking care of living creatures before most kids my age even woke up. But my heart wasn’t in it.

I did it because I had to, not because I understood or embraced the responsibility.

Looking back, I’m not sure this really made me feel grown up. Maybe I just felt trapped, playing at being an adult without really feeling like one.

But still, those mornings shaped me. Taught me about duty, about doing things you don’t want to do. Is that part of growing up too?

I guess the real question is: Does feeling grown up come from what we do, or why we do it?

Years later, I got my answer. First real job. My older sister was struggling silently.

One glance at my paycheck, and I made a choice. No fanfare, just a quiet transfer to her account.

That’s when it clicked. This was being grown up – helping not because I had to, but because I chose to.

Those cold mornings with the sheep? Just practice. The real lesson was seeing beyond myself.

Being grown up is about choices we make that impact others, simply because we can.

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