I wonder how long I can go without…

There are some things which I feel are like rites of passage, in that people start doing them once they become adults, or once they reach a certain point in their careers or personal lives. Some of them I have done, such as getting a credit card, learning how to drive, and purchasing flights — but others, such as the below, I have stubbornly refused to do for the past few years. Sometimes other people tell me to do them for the sake of convenience or efficiency, and sometimes the curiosity to explore the unknown gets ahold of me, but through now neither has pushed me off the edge quite yet.

• Taking myself out to eat (except for while traveling) (includes fast food and DoorDash)

  • I’ve never gone to a restaurant or fast food place alone, except for a few times when I got very hungry while traveling as a high schooler. This is because I feel like the value of going out to eat for me is to spend time with whoever else I’m going with, not the food itself — and also for cost reasons. So when I’m just eating by myself, I cook food myself or just eat a couple of snacks instead of a full meal (which is what I do while traveling these days). There have been a couple of times when I’ve considered going to Chipotle or Panda Express by myself just for a once-in-a-while thing, but I worry that I might end up doing it every week and then become dependent on the weekly treat of going out to eat, which feels too dangerous.

• Uber’ing when my safety is not in danger

  • I will only take Ubers when it’s late at night, or my safety is in danger for some other reason (or if I’m with a friend who really wants to take an Uber). Otherwise, I absolutely must take public transit, even if it takes a whole hour and has multiple connections, because that way I feel more connected to the other inhabitants of the city, I get to see glimpses of other peoples’ lives (especially those who are also unable to take Uber’s), and I don’t spend as much money.

• Buying a piece of clothing over $25

  • This actually used to be $15, but then a few weeks ago I bought a skirt for $21… which is now one of my favorite skirts, that I think I will wear every week, and which will most likely be worth more to me than ten $10 items I’ve bought… so maybe this is teaching me a lesson about pricier items sometimes being worthwhile for the quality…

• Wearing makeup

  • I’ve never worn a drop of makeup before, nor do I know how to apply it. I can’t deny that I am curious about it though — I think it would definitely make me more confident and feel better about myself. It feels like a closed door in a childhood home that I’ve walked by so many times, and part of me is itching to open it and see what’s behind. However, I don’t have any natural way or reason to learn it, so I haven’t yet.

• Paying for a personal care treatment (includes haircut, hair styling, hair removal, nails)

  • I currently DIY all personal care treatments (and do a questionable job at it).

• Listening to music while walking on the street, bicycling, or taking public transit

  • This one is kinda strange because I listen to music all the time while at home or inside buildings, just never outside because I feel the need to be more alert then.

• Preferring filtered water to tap water

  • I will drink tap water anywhere in America (although other countries might be different — I think I got stomach flu from tap water in Rwanda). Tap water is simply convenient and tastes good and I don’t want to get dehydrated one day from not having access to a water filter or fountain.

I worry that once I start doing any one of these things, I won’t be able to go back, because I’ll realize how good and fun and pleasant life is with it added in — and I’ll become unable to function without it, unable to live the simple life anymore. I’m very prone to addiction, in that if doing something once goes well then I feel like doing it over and over again, because I suddenly have “permission”. Once I find a good route to walk on, I take it every day. Once I find one thing at the dining hall that I like, I get it every time. Switching from glasses to contact lenses for one day turns into wearing them for two whole years.

These rites of passage are like doorways between two worlds, one in which I never do them and the other in which I often do them, freely and happily. And I wonder for how long I can stay in the doorway — postponing the inevitable outcome that I’ll eventually step through, yet not quite accepting it.