It is hard to pinpoint an exact moment in time, but generally speaking I would say that the first time “I felt grown up” was in my 13th year.
I took my first part time job, I got the awkward (and unnecessary) talk about how babies are made, and I started cooking for myself in the absence of parental oversight. My first meals revolved around Kraft Dinner and hotdogs (Canadian will get this), but for all intents and purposes I was basically self sufficient.
While my other friends complained about curfews and chores, I more or less enjoyed the freedoms of an adult. The unspoken conditions: I stay out of trouble and keep going to school.
Perhaps it was a little premature, but at least it helped me develop a healthy sense of independence. As the saying goes; you have to play with the hand you are dealt.
Stay Wild!
The Wild 
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