'Knot' Your Average Coming-of-Age Story

 Rites of passage: structured ceremonies or rituals that lead into a person’s adulthood. 

We have all experienced something of the sort. Perhaps you felt the most “mature” when you plopped behind the wheel for the first time. Maybe when you first stepped onto a college campus, or into a new job. Or perhaps it was when you graduated high school, and legally became an adult. 

Well, for me, nothing really clicked. 

Yes, after finally getting my driver’s license after renewing my permit three times, I felt more adult. Yes, after graduating homeschool high school with a GED, I felt more adult. And, yes, with my knees buckled and my hands shaking, I felt most like an adult marching onto a college campus for the first time on Sept. 30, 2025. 

But these accomplishments, these average rites of passage, could not compare to the day I learned to successfully tie my shoes, the right way. 

The mantras I was told over and over: bunny loop. Around the bend, and then under. Tug.

Through elementary school, I needed velcro or someone to assist with my string. Middle school, and God forbid I allow anyone to see me tying my shoes with two loops and crossing them over. High school, even, same practice. I wore boots (pre-tied) that were easy enough to slip on and off, relieving me of any future lace maneuvers. 

And then, one day, everything changed. 

It was October 2024 in Parowan, Utah, and I had just turned 18 a couple of months prior. I was bored. When I get bored, I resort to something spontaneous. Life was, circumstantially, uneventful. And it doesn’t help when your town consists of 3,000 (give or take) residents and contains more gas stations than restaurants. 

I turned to the only thing that seemed relatively exciting: the flower shop. 

Yes, even though I had no experience with flowers — at the time, I was unable to distinguish a daisy from a carnation — I knew the owner, and that had to count as something … And it did. 

I became a florist. Of course, I naively underestimated the fact that I would have to tie bows. Lots of bows. I refused, at first. 

“I’m not good at tying bows, you do them,” I told my boss. 

A couple of weeks later, after I had memorized a variety of flowers and was tapping into my inner florist, a revelation emerged. 

As I watched my co-worker tie her bow seamlessly around a vase, I felt my hands move on their own, reaching toward some ribbon — as if I were possessed by a bow-tying spirit. 

It was in this moment, as my fingers slipped through the silky satin and around the cold glass, that I realized I was doing it. I had tied a bow, the real way. 

I did a little happy dance in my head and with my grin wider than it probably should have been and my cheeks flushed, I successfully tied two more, then three, then four. 

A miracle! Rejoice!

My rite of passage was complete. For me, I had entered adulthood at this very moment. 

If you can tie your shoelaces, then you can achieve anything in life.