What event(s) in your life matured you considerably in one fell swoop?

When I was transferred from public to private school. There was impossible standards at that school. Their graduation requirements were twice that of the state’s. It really pushed me to became more than the bratty, bullish kid I was.

At that same school, my class of the time went to D.C. as an extended field trip. That trip turned out to be 80% disaster and I was forced to take care of myself several times. Its amazing just a bit of short time on city streets will make one think fast and hard.

Then there were the deaths in my family, which obviously caused a growth spurt in my maturity.

@Spinel Please expand on that. I love reading about one’s new life at a private school!

Being sedated, placed in a strait jacket and tossed into a padded room.

That’s a “reality check” for your ass!

Getting pregnant right out of high school would be my initial response, but i would have to say it was beign a victim of domestic violence.

Pregnancy at the age of 20.

@SABOTEUR If I get locked in a psych ward, do I get to take my laptop? If I don’t, do they have computers w/ Internet for its patients?

@EgaoNoGenki: I don’t know. It’s been many years since I had that experience, but if I had to guess, the answer would be no. Most likely, you’d be stripped of your personal possessions for the duration of your stay, and you would be issued everything they wanted you to have (translated: non-lethal).

I believe that for me maturation has been a gradual process. I believe that is the usual case rather than an exception. Of course, there have been pivotal moments. After my third divorce, I realised I kept picking women I thought I could help. I think that was a powerful insight that has vastly improved my life and made my current relationship destined to be a source of joy for the rest of my life.

My clinical training and experience greatly expanded my understanding of human behaviour and helped me understand how people can get really stuck in their lives.

Moving to a new city by myself and having to be totally independent to survive assisted in my personal development.

In addition, I realised that life truly wasn’t fair and right when I was sexually harassed by my boss, then bullied when his advances were declined resulting in me being fired months later when I began a relationship with my then boyfriend. Caused me to grow up a lot.

You wanna know the key to maturity…how you know you’re mature?

Maturity develops the instant a person realizes you say, do and feel things because you want to.

It’s the acknowledgment that nothing occurs in your life without your consent.

Until that realization occurs, a person will spend his whole life searching for answers (justifications) that leave your meandering on a path of misery and self-denial.

My first year away at college was the year the doctors diagnosed my mother with cancer. In a few short months I went from being the teenager bringing home laundry and complaining about lack of air conditioning in the dorms to the young adult helping my mother take showers, pay off medical bills, make it to and from chemo, and helping her deal with subsequent depression, exacerbated by the loss of her sister.

That may not have been the best year I’ve had, but wow… I matured.

@EgaoNoGenki – Part 1 – Elementry School

At public school, the teachers are there for their pay – that’s all that matters to most of ‘em. It was easy for a strong willed kid like me to get away with anything – from not doing assignments to playing chicken head style with the boys at recess. I also learned my first swear words there and used them regularly in class. I remember drawing a picture my second grade teacher doing something very personal in the bathroom on the whiteboard…after awhile both parents said “enough.”

Off to private I went. Third grade became a regular pattern: get to class late, raise my hand to argue with the third grade teacher those stupid math problems, have lunch detention, and then go home with one of those slips and “forget” to do my homework that night. I happily learned that year that private school kids are sheltered, and quiet…now that was great fun (insert evil laughter here).

Four grade was the year of repentance and penance. The teacher of that could match me eye to eye, wit to wit. She complained about the length of my earrings and I remarked on the sick taste in clothes. That remark always made her face go blood red…something I enjoyed then. This was also the year I received the nickname, “Saber Tooth,” I suppose that’s to be expected when a little kid goes around chasing others kids and snapping their teeth at other little kids. I also had my first crush that year…and ended up concluding that private school guys are weak and boring. The truth is, I did a pretty rotten job of perusing the opposite sex back then. I also clogged all of the toilets in the girl’s bathroom near the end of year….and made great friends with the principle. During the last year this annoying thing called conscience decided to wake up in me…

Fifth grade was the year of Latin and the evil spelling class. It as also the year our class scaled down to a puny size – 11 kids at max. I calmed down, pursued reading of ridiculous level, acted like an angel for the a teacher and discovered new ways to plot against fellow students behind her back. I went from outright rebellion to more subtle…ah…fun. Science was a class well advanced for fifth grade level…I learned about water systems and pipes that year. At recess (in the middle of winter – we were stuck inside) I “unpiped” the ancient drinking fountain and rigged it imitate Old faithful with chewed up gum, toothpicks from the teacher’s lounge and duct tape from from the janitor’s closet (supervision in the hallway was poor – they thought us mature enough to handle ourselves). The first victim was the main office secretary.

Sixth grade was the calming year. I grew board with my own “outside class activities” it was to easy to pull off. Latin continued. Our teacher that year was fresh out of college and single. He stood on desks with an air guitar, brought his puppy to school and let it run wild inside, had us do tie-dye for art, bought us pizza for lunch once a week and took us to the park to play football. Didn’t learn much, but it was sure fun.

My mother kept a journal of it all and I just finished reading through it recently. I forgot what a bratty exciting kid I was. ;) I would go on to talk about 7th through high, but this is already long enough, yes?

Oh yuck! Please forgive that awful mechanics in that…its like I’m in that fifth grade spelling class all over again.

Getting sober changed me overnight almost and staying sober changes me one day at a time.

@Spinel BRAVO! I loved this story well enough that I even took the effort to read it aloud!

> I would go on to talk about 7th through high, but this is already long enough, yes?

No, no! Not at all! Not by a long shot! I especially look forward to your Part 2.

Way to go, @hawaii_jake!

I’m not sure if I’m even allowed to talk about this, someone might be all waaah about it and get it removed. In any case, I’m being quite serious about it and it definitely was a significant event.

Age 11, I think the whole ‘loss of virginity’ thing did it for me a long, amusing story, by the way. I noticed that having sex in no way changed my personality. And realising this, despite a lot of popular opinions and terminology, amusingly enough, changed my personality.

In effect, realising there had been no changes to my personality or maturity levels caused me to mature and change a fair bit. Plus I got laid. Damned good day.

I see maturing as very much an ongoing process, there’s no distinct start and finish line. You start becoming more aware of yourself and your relation with your surroundings from adolescence and I’d like think this continues throughout your adult life.
However, if I were to pinpoint experiences that pushed me forward with regards to self-awreness and responsibility, it would be:
The first time my mum didn’t fix my pains/fears/problems
Moving out and supporting myself
The first job that I considered a career opportunity
Agreeing to divorce
to be continued…

The day I realized I couldn’t remember anything from the past two years. Thing about forgetting stuff is you forget you forgot it. Now when that happens I check my notes. But the first time… Whoo, talk about a reality sucker punch to the gonads.

I have a friend, who received a medal during the gulf war. There was a Chinese silkworm missile that had flown all the way from Iran, to Ryad, right over the hospital tent, missing it by feet.

He said he went out side to hear what all the noise was and saw it coming straight for him. Sounded like a mac truck he said, and it appear coming straight at him, no where to duck. He became a Christian seconds later.

It missed, and he lived to come home and tell the story. He didn’t say if he needed new undies.

I don’t think straight jackets are used that often these days. Just pump em up with a neuroleptic and stuff them in padded isolation.

@EgaoNoGenki Part 2 – Middle School

Seventh grade was the year of pre-adulthood. We received a new dress code, strict gender rules etc. I learned that procrastination = persecution. This was the year I learned to speed walk between classes – after much trouble. Our homeroom teacher kept track of my speed walking experiment for the first for months and reported it to mom: 55 crashes, 38 of which were people oriented, the last 13 into walls or corners.

That year some of the fifth grade in me lingered. A new principle arrived. One shorter then me. He ran into me in the hallway and asked where the cafeteria was – I gave him directions to the bathroom. At the board meeting that day, he suggested serious remodeling of the cafeteria. I got into huge trouble for that one. I did gain valuable intelligence though – a principle with not to many light bulbs on is a great tool in the toolbox.

It was not the best of years…for it seamed my new size only added to more badly spent strength. In a routine gym class, we were in the middle of a basketball game. One girl stole the ball from me in a way against the rules. The supervisor didn’t see, so I did vigilante justice- from a running start. The ball when through the wall and the girl’s loose tooth came out early. That came out of my college fund. I never did join any of the sports teams.

We also had introductory computer classes. I was board. My dad worked as a manager so I knew it all already – geez. Our computer teacher mentioned mentioned that she could use her account to replace our password on each computer if we ever lost our individual ones. That intrigued me and I wondered if she has that much power. I decided to visit her account instead of mine – figuring out the password was easy. It was the name of the school mascot (she had an obsession with school spirit). She had this neat thing called folder marked “personal” on her desktop. She found out before I could click. My mother managed to convince them to give me one more chance…she prevailed.

Eighth grade was the year of small lockers and the new cheerleaders. The lockers assigned that year were incredibly small. To small for me and all of my stuff. I learned that a bottle of a couple men’s colognes along with lunch two or three weeks old was very effective for gaining room. I was able to capture two additional lockers that year.

A new student came in. She was all to happy to share the fact of her cheer-leading history with the other girls in our class. So, a friend filled her water bottle with toilet water I (having figured how to get quiet by then) gave her clothing an addition: toilet paper tails. She never knew till after school.

@EgaoNoGenki Part 3: The Highschool Era

Ninth grade was the year of the crabby teacher. She has a special talent to make students cry. She told me about half way through the year, that I added interesting things to the discussion in class. That Christmas, while decorating the classroom, the lights wouldn’t go on. She glared at the outlet, and stuck her finger in it…and didn’t get lucky.

That year we had Health Class. With boys that blushed at the mere mention of “female” it was really quite entertaining.

I signed up for Chemistry for science that year. It was during the second semester we went into depth on the Table of Elements. We were told not to mix sulpher with this or that with that…but me being me, I wanted to see if the Chemistry teacher was telling the truth…he was. The smoke alarms went off. They weren’t able to use that room for a week.

This was also the year I joined Journalism. My first article was on the injustice of the dress code and dating policy, and how the staff was very insufficient in many ways. I learned that the school newspaper didn’t follow First Amendment rights.

10th grade was the year of self improvement. I learned more self control. I also tutored five students. We still had P.E. class and same boys from the 9th grade Health class were still there. That day we learned the waltz. I found it pathetic. By that age a guy shouldn’t be so shy! Have you heard of guys stepping on girls’ feet during a dance? I “accidentally” stepping on many male feet during the Waltzing lessons.

That year I learned to drive. I wanted to celebrate by going out to lunch, but the school was a closed campus. I went anyway. Of course there were consequences later, but the chicken nuggets were fantastic.

That year I also got the sing the national Anthem at one of the boy’s basket ball games with no mike. I was enthralled – until the the choir teacher informed me it was only because the speakers were in jeopardy and that I had the loudest voice in the school that she knew off…

11th grade was the quiet year. Except for the rumor from the Elementary building: a couple of seventh graders has stuffed the shower drains full of bubble gum in the locker rooms…their inspiration from me, our homeroom teacher speculated.

12th grade was the year of torture Calculous. She wanted me to show my work without just writing down answers, and I did…I showed her me punching buttons on my calculator. She wasn’t impressed.

That wraps up my school career. :) Thankfully, I’m much more responsible now..the real world has taught practical jokes aren’t very beneficial…

Reading your question made me think of last year, living on the run with my daughter with a lot of people trying to kill us. Made me find out fast who was my true friend, and gave me valuable insight into human nature and what sorts of amazing things (good and bad) humans are capable of doing.

But I was not immature before it started, so after reading the explanation I’d go for my last year at school. I was 17 and I had to live on my own. Luckily I could cook, though I didn’t have enough money to buy the food in the first place. My school was too far and I had to spend a lot of time just to get there and back, and overall it was a struggle just to pass the class. Overall it was fun though, I loved the idependence, and I don’t think that I had to “mature fast” in the way you are perhaps implying, but sure, I had to learn to do stuff quickly. Make new friends, survive on my own, make ends meet, manage my time…

Having to move out of my mothers house in NYC at the age of 15 to move across the country to Miami, FL to live with my father, whom i never lived with really spoke to until then.

Then my father making me move out at 18 on my own with only a months notice…

The birth of my first child. Unconditional love for a human being that I helped bring into the world. Maturity smacked me in the face with extreme life changing force. Of course I retain immaturity for special ocassions. Well couldn’t say goodbye to the lifelong companion altogether now could I.

Having an Autistic child.

Basic Training immediately followed by Officer Candidate School. The DIs getting in all their shots while they still could. I learned to keep my mouth shut and follow orders, do the damned drills and play the game. That creativity and extensive knowledge were best kept to myself. That appearance was more important than reality. Paint it, polish it or salute it. That you are saluting the rank, not the person wearing it. That the 1930s-era close-order drill my grandfather taught me was exactly the same in 1977. That I could out-shoot the range instructor in both rifle and pistol, thanks again to grandfather. How to take orders and how to give them. How to scrub pots and polish floors. How to field-strip and reassemle an M60 machine gun. Learning that out-running your classmates has consequences after lights-out. Finally, pinning on the butter-bars and hearing my father say “you’ve done well” for the first time in my life.

Becoming a mother for the first time with a colicky baby. I was not used to having to put someone else’s needs before my own and I had to grow up fast.

I was 21 and I brought this cute litte boy home from the hospital. I placed his car seat on the ground of my apartment and he just looked up at me. I looked down into his big brown eyes. And then I thought, now what. In that single moment I realized how important my life would be to this small little fellow. Even though it hadn’t been that important to me before I was pregnant with him, partying all the time, hanging out with whoever crashed the party, disrespecting my self by sleeping with people I didn’t love. In that one moment I felt like the whole world flipped 180 degrees. His name is Landon. He is 8 now and he changed my whole life.

I would like to say pregnancy, but having my son didn’t make me grow up over night..it is a long and hard sludging through the mud type of growing up for me – it is necessary and challenges me all the time,.. but of course the pregnancy started the process off… little by little I grow up a bit more…

I wish there was something that had made me grow up over night… I imagine growing up to equate to feeling confident and great about myself, knowing my purpose and the path ahead…knowing that I matter, no matter what…but I’m certainly not there yet… I’m just fumbling around in the dark, asking questions and hoping I make the right choices…

@lynneblundell It definitely didn’t happen for me overnight. Adjusting to being a mother was one of the hardest jobs I have ever taken on and sent me for counseling when I became afraid of failing at it. My kids are grown now and are two of the delights of my life, so the work was well worth it!

Things worth having, and many that aren’t, are not usually acquired “in one fell swoop.”

Death of a family member. When faced with the death you have no choice but to rise to the occasion. Stiff upper lip and calm are necessary tools when helping a dying person die as peacefully as possible. Inside I was a wailing and hysterical child.

I can’t say that any one event did a lot to mature me, in any general sense. When I was kicked out of my house at 17, I had to mature enough to take care of myself, but I was still 17, and still immature is so many ways. Getting married matured me, but here I am, 35 years old, and I am still not mature enough to spend my money “wisely”.

Maturity is way overrated.

The first would be being severely abused as a child. I had to try and make it through the physical, mental and emotional abuse on my own, and I came out of it alive. Because of it, I was always a bit more mature than those of my age, simply because I had seen things that most of them will never see in their entire lives. And my life didn’t consist of playing games and gossiping – it consisted of hiding from my abuser, stashing food in my room so that I wouldn’t have to brave going out there, finding ways to escape from the house and sneak back in without being caught, and of course, getting the shit beaten out of me on a (literally) daily basis.

The next thing that gave me a jump in maturity was moving out of state without my family. Before I moved, even though my abuser no longer lived with me, he still controlled my life through my fear and burning hatred of him. Once I moved and knew he couldn’t hurt me anymore, I forgave him (without forgetting) for what he did. Even though I am still affected by it today (I have severe social anxiety, depression, nightmares, etc), I can live my life without constantly having him and the abuse on my mind.

Then, I overcame the drug addiction that had stemmed from trying to escape from the abuse by escaping from my mind. This matured me by bringing me to rehab and a 12 step program, which gave me spiritual principles that changed my life by teaching me not to steal, lie, and hurt others just to get drugs anymore. I have been clean for over a year and I still try my best to live by these principles.

The most recent thing that matured me greatly was having my daughter. Everything else’s importance has reduced exponentially in my life; my thoughts and actions are all revolved around taking care of her, controlling our finances so that we can care for her, keeping her healthy, and getting ready for her future.

@Spinel Great stories; they made my day.

I often wish I was brought up in private school instead.

I was homeless, only for a short period thank god I was around 16 or so…..BUT WOW holy fuck. Never again. I will work the most crappiest dead-end job in the world or anything before that happens.

@Steve_A Be warned – some jobs don’t pay you enough for even the most basic rent. (Some of mine didn’t.) If you’re close to homelessness, find friends whose couches to crash on, or look through the yellow pages for homeless shelters.

@EgaoNoGenki Yes, I agree some jobs will not. I just meant if I HAD to and was at the point.

Luckily everything is ok and working out right now.

@Steve_A Oh, and if you were 16, why weren’t you living with your family? You were still a minor.

(I guess you ran away from home and hitched rides for a while, didn’t you?)

@EgaoNoGenki Nope,parents are both drug addicts, pills specifically.Some people call it hillbilly heroin, and they both have been caught for doctor shopping its called.

and when my mom and dad split my mom took my sister and went down to stay with grandma. Well me,brother and my dad were at Orlando (we were staying at a place called home suite home it was like a living unit, but still a hotel)came back to find out we were screwed already and hardly had the money for the hotel so we were out on the streets.

thats basically what happened at that point in my life, in a nutshell without getting into details and all.

When I met my partner and realized that I respected her so much that growing up was the only thing I could do if this relationship would have any realistic, long term, potential.