I’ve done a lot of adulting of late. Taxes and financial aid forms. I emptied the compost. (Which, let’s be honest, isn’t anyone’s first choice, but as an adult you do the things that need to be done when no one else volunteers.) I even booked an appointment with a dermatologist to get all my various imperfections magnified and looked at by a team of professionals under bright light–again, not how I would have chosen to spend hard earned money in my youth.

But as I dusted today with my certified melanoma-free body (thank you sunblock and good genes!), I traveled the long road of memory lane to a time when I was just beginning to think of myself as an adult. Voting in an election for the first time. Holding down a full-time job. Paying off student loans. Money was tight, and my shiny new husband and I were so frugal we only owned one small car between us, but I digress.

It was in this time when I was still firmly in my 20s when I took that step that felt, for me, like a monumental leap into “things adults do.” I walked into a small local gallery on my lunch break, fell in love with a piece of artwork, hemmed and hawed, and finally plunked down the small ransom to take it home.

I felt quite the spendthrift walking out with my brown-paper wrapped Original Artwork. That’s what hubby and I called it: O.A. It felt momentous buying something for the pure luxury of hanging it in my living space. I mean, I couldn’t eat it or drive it, and its market value peaked the moment I handed over my credit card. It was the first piece of art I’d purchased that wasn’t available in multiples at the mall. Watercolors on rice paper. A local artist. Why this piece, you might ask? I loved the colors. I still do. Its colors and composition were both soothing and interesting and something someone spent time and creative energy on, then had the guts to hang in a small local gallery. It called to me but not in a poltergeist-y way.

I walked out of there that day feeling the pinch of a wallet unused to extravagance, but I’ve often wondered how that artist felt knowing their work was valued. Enjoyed. I hope that, somehow, they see this post and feel the glow of having made something lasting and lovely. It would make doing my taxes this week feel worth it.

What did it for you? What was your first “adult” moment?