If I had a dollar for every time someone told me I was mature for my age I would have enough money to buy my own island to escape to. When people hear that I am 16 they usually gawk at me in awe. The people that really know me get to see the childish and very immature girl, but in most situations, I feel as though I am 16 going on 25.

It started with my father. He raised my sisters and me with a strict hand. He wanted us to be strong and independent. That is something I understand now, but all that time I honestly thought he was just a crazy control freak. Similar to most fathers he was a man with a mean bark, but he would rarely bite. Although when he did bite it would scar, and you would not forget the lesson he was trying to teach.

One night, my sisters had forgotten to do the dishes. My father woke us up and yelled for us to finish them at that exact moment. At this time my mom was deployed in South Korea, and it was just my dad and my two sisters in a small duplex on Fort Lewis before it became a joint base. This was when I was pretty young, but I still remember how scared I was that night. His lesson for us? We have a responsibility to do our chores before we go to bed.

Similar to other mature teenagers, I am the youngest of three. My older sister is four years older than me and my oldest is six years older than me. Throughout my childhood, I wanted to be just like them. Sound familiar? I wanted their freedoms. I wanted to be able to drive, work, go out late, and everything else that came with being older. Most importantly, I was willing to take on the extra responsibilities that came with them.

As the older I have gotten, I still want more freedom. To me, it feels like more than a want, but a need. I need this freedom. I need to be able to work and make my own living. I need to be on my own making ends meet. Unlike most teens my age, the thoughts in my head do not revolve around dating or dances. My thoughts continue to circulate around my insurance payments to my mother, possible apartments I can move into, my phone bill, and everything else a young adult that is on their own thinks about.

When I turned 16, I did not ask for a sweet sixteen party or a shiny new car. I asked if I could buy my Grandpa’s old Ford F-150, so that I had a truck I could use for heavy moving. I then applied for my first job and started working two days later. When people asked me what I wanted for gifts, all I would say was a car and a job. I wanted to be able to drive myself where I wanted to go and make my own money to spend.

My next birthday is in August. If someone were to ask me how old I will be turning I will have to remind myself I will be turning 17 and not 26. That is what it feels like to be so mature for someone my age. It has the upsides and the downsides, but I would not change my mindset for anything in the world.