By Meher Ahmad
<[email protected]>

This summer I was faced with an emotion I thought I would never face. After years and years of wishing I were older, wishing I could fast forward through my awkward years and become a successful person. I realized how close I was to becoming an adult, but I felt fear instead of joy.

I traveled around Italy and Paris with my family, but I was returning to the United States alone. This could be a daunting task to most, but I have traveled alone on long flights several times before, so I was not too intimidated. But due to some unforeseen circumstances, my mother had to sign me up for the unaccompanied minor program given by most airlines.

It was humiliating at first, considering I was 17 and most of the children surrounding me were between the ages of 7 and 12. To make matters worse, all unaccompanied minors, or U.M.’s according to the huge stickers we had to wear, were given bright orange Air France passport holders, which all the flight attendants insisted we wear at all times. I looked like a grumpy overgrown child, which in actuality, I was.

The humiliation was well worth it in the end, though. It turned out that I missed the last flight leaving from the Amsterdam International Airport to the United States, so I was stuck there for the night. Thankfully, because I was an unaccompanied minor, any overnight accommodations were taken care of by KLM/AirFrance.

I was booked in the nearest Holiday Inn and escorted by a KLM agent, who took care of my every need, from food to shopping and getting to the airport on time. It was a little irritating because most of those things I could do alone, but it was comforting because I didn’t have to stress about arranging those things alone.

While it was utterly embarrassing to be walked around like a child, I must admit I enjoyed recieving free pizza and Haagen Dazs at the expense of KLM. And while most the children in the “Junior Jet Lounge” were around the age of the kids I babysit, it was more fun to play cards with them than sit alone in a terminal.

I have been caught in that situation before, and regardles of how cool-headed I appeared to be, underneath the surface I was a blubbering 12-year-old crying for my parents.

I’ve always seen myself as capable as an adult, conquering underground train systems and foreign cities alone. I’ve travelled to different countries without my parents, and I was proud to see myself as a ‘big girl.’ That pride came crashing at my feet when I realized this:

In a few months, I won’t be able to sign up for the unaccompanied minor program. In fact, there are a lot of things I won’t be able to do. The Happy Meal is long gone, but once I turn 18, my parents can kick me out of the house if they wish. Although it’s a little early to be thinking about college, I’m going to have to pay my bills, do my own groceries, my own everything.

If I had been 18 earlier, I would have had to book my own hotel and rebooked my airline ticket. I know I’m fully capable of doing so, but the fact it would be my only option still freaks me out. I never realized what being an 18-year-old means. It brings power, but, as Spiderman once said, with great power comes great responsibility, and it’s responsibility that maybe I’m apprehensive to take.

It’s a coming-of-age scenario that every person has to experience, the moment when you realize that things are going to change, whether you like it or not. As most things in life, the moment when I realized I’m becoming an adult wasn’t what I had pictured for years. Instead of ecstasy, I felt anxious and afraid of what adulthood entails. Meher Ahmad is a reporter for the HiLite. Contact her at [email protected].