Rites of Passage: Recognizing the Subtle Milestones of Adulthood

Childhood is filled with so many rites of passages: first steps, first day of school, being able to tie your own shoes. Usually these memorable moments are accompanied by the snap of a camera and happy sighs from adoring parents.

Parents, and adults in general, also have smaller, less dramatic rites of passage throughout their lives that subtly shift them from one phase to another. Often, there aren’t any onlookers to acknowledge the journey, just a sudden realization in yourself that you somehow got to a different place in life.

Sometimes what sparks my self-reflection is watching others go through their own big changes like graduating, getting married and having children. As an innocent spectator, I can applaud their achievements while being thankful that I’ve had those experiences, too, and that I can now push forward in new directions.

Seeing my young cousin recently going through the rituals of preparing to marry brought me back to the evening a decade ago when my brothers pushed milky bangles on my arms, giving their blessings as I was about to become a bride. I embarked on a new phase of my life then with great ceremony, but the understanding of love and the work of marriage gradually came later, long after the bridal henna designs on my hands had faded.

Cradling someone else’s newborn and being able to hand him back to his bleary-eyed parents is another quiet marker that reminds me that I’m in the next chapter of my life. Since my boys have given me a full night’s sleep for over a year now, I have the clarity to point out to new parents that they are slowly coming out of their baby fog, and that they, too, will one day be able to sleep again.

Hearing little voices call me massi (auntie), colleagues refer to me as a writer and friends praise my brave foray into being an entrepreneur makes me stop and think that I am now those things, too. Added on to the ever-constant teacher, mother, wife and daughter, I am sure that I am the most things I’ve ever been in my life all at once.

For me, this phase is utterly chaotic, pulsating with an abundance of experiences that are sometimes hard to understand, but still so meaningful.

I don’t know if it is an official rite of passage, but I think finally being grown up enough to wear a sari means that you’ve matured into a graceful young lady. I’ve worn them a few times in the past, each time for a significant occasion, each time with some relative by my side carefully wrapping the nine yards of fabric around me.

The other day, I taught myself how to wear a sari, although I was sure that it would need an adjustment once someone saw me. Somehow, it held up perfectly throughout the evening, and it was my own rite of passage, signifying that I am a grown woman, independent and capable.