Held & Healing

So… I recently turned 25 and it turns out that my frontal lobe is not yet fully developed.

New neuroscience research has shown that structural changes in the brain extend into your early 30s. That is somewhat comforting to me, because I do not feel like I have reached my brain growth capacity. I say this both light heartedly and literally, because life has been feeling weird. Not only because of all that is happening in the world right now, but also because of what is happening inside me. For the first time in my life, it feels like I am starting things off on a blank canvas with no clue of what the final drawing or painting will look like. Rather than frantically brainstorming what the next 5 years are meant to be, I have been going down memory lane a lot, and realizing (sometimes uncomfortably so) how my soul tangibly bears the mark of my childhood and teenage years. I carry so many of those experiences in my everyday life, whether I am aware of them or not, and that is both comforting and unsettling. It is comforting in the sense that I am connected to some of the most memorable experiences of those years, but unsettling in the sense that my personality and how I show up in the world bear the aftermath of the traumatic experiences that I went through. In this post I want to talk through some of these thoughts and feelings, as my first attempt at deciphering adulthood.

| I have never really fully conceptualized what it means to be an adult.

Now that I am undoubtedly classified as one, I must say I am met with disappointment. It is as if I have crossed a threshold that has required me to trade my child-like nature for professional comportment, and my time for dreadful responsibility. Yet, I cannot ignore the fact that my childlike nature persists, flapping its wings against the cage of professional comportment, and the fact that I resist fully trading my time for undesirable responsibility; so, therein the tension lies. Moreover, my childhood keeps knocking at the door of my consciousness, like an unexpected guest, bearing long forgotten and hidden memories of all kinds. For instance, when I find myself in social spaces where I am not that familiar with a lot of people, I am mentally transported to similar situations from my childhood.

One such memory dates to early primary school, during one of the most anticipated sports galas of the school year. I was not participating in anything that day, but I really wanted to watch and experience the whole thing. I don’t know why, but the memory typically begins with an image of young Pearl standing in a passageway, no one else in sight, hearing the shouts of excitement coming from the field, overcome with social anxiety and shame. The social anxiety stemmed from the fact that I did not know where my friends were in that sea of people, and so I most likely would have to find a random spot to sit – a total nightmare for me at that time! Then the shame came from the fact that I only had enough money to buy just one hotdog from the tuck shop, while many of the other kids could buy so many more items. I eventually made my way to the field, shaking with fear, fighting the lump in my throat that precedes tears, and clutching my sloppy hotdog like my life depended on it. I have no idea how the games eventually panned out, but I remember feeling alone in that crowded space. I didn’t know it then, but being ashamed of my family’s financial status was something I would go on to harbor into my early adulthood. A story for another day.

| I am now decades older, yet the mark of that experience is still tangible in my mind and emotions.

When it is triggered, the years that now separate me from my younger self melt away, and I realize that she is me and I am her. The difference is I now have greater agency and more of a say over my life. This comes with the responsibility of not only giving voice to the woman I am becoming but also advocating for little Pearl, whose voice was so often unheard. As aspirational as this sounds, this will be one of the hardest endeavors I have ever undertaken. It will require me to confront so many things I have buried and ignored in the pursuit of a "better" life. Thus, I am brought to the question that led me to write this post: What does it mean to be an adult? While the world is demanding more of my time, attention, and brainpower than I am willing to give, my soul is sounding alarm bells, calling for my undivided attention and care. And so, I sit in God’s presence, the creator of my soul and essence, and present what feels like will be the most rewarding pursuit.

© 2025. Pearl Dlamini. All rights reserved.

Intentional and Wise