Can you walk people to their gate?

The Gatekeeper’s Guide: Why Adulting Sometimes Needs a Wingman (or Wing-parent)

Twenty-two. A legal adult. Independent, ostensibly. Yet, here I am, penning a request that feels faintly ridiculous, even to me. I need help getting to my gate.

Now, before you picture a helpless damsel in distress, let me clarify. I’m not physically impaired. The airport isn’t some labyrinthian monster. My gate isn’t on a separate continent. The problem isn’t logistical; it’s emotional.

Navigating the airport, that chaotic ballet of rolling suitcases and hurried footsteps, is usually no problem. But this trip feels different. This trip is…big. A new job, a new city, a fresh start. And the weight of all that “new” is pressing down, making even the simple act of walking to my gate feel monumental.

The truth is, I’m overwhelmed. The excitement is tinged with a healthy dose of anxiety. The “adulting” part of this new adventure is hitting me harder than anticipated. And so, I find myself craving the familiar comfort of parental accompaniment.

I know this sounds…silly. I know it probably seems absurd to ask my parents to walk me to my gate. I can envision the slightly embarrassed looks, the whispered conversations amongst airport personnel. The image of a 22-year-old being “escorted” by their mom and dad is undeniably awkward. But the potential awkwardness pales in comparison to the comfort it offers.

It’s not about needing physical assistance. It’s about needing emotional support. It’s about having those familiar faces beside me as I step into this uncertain future. It’s about having a safety net, a reassuring presence in a place that, despite its familiarity, feels profoundly unfamiliar right now.

This isn’t about infantilization; it’s about self-preservation. It’s about acknowledging that even adults need support sometimes, and that seeking that support isn’t a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength. It’s about accepting the help offered by the people who love me, and allowing myself to feel the comfort that comes with it, even if it involves a slightly embarrassing walk to the gate.

So, Mom, Dad, if you’re reading this… yes, that’s right. I’d really appreciate the company. And if anyone sees us, well, just smile and nod. We’ll be fine. Mostly.