Just days after my high school graduation, I boarded an eight-hour flight to Copenhagen, Denmark. I had purchased the tickets myself and had already booked beds in a local hostel with my favorite travel buddy, my friend Sadie. 

We had celebrated our 18th birthdays just months before, and had officially entered adulthood (well, at least on paper). As freshly minted adults, this trip was both our opportunity to celebrate our graduation and test the autonomy that came with it. 

Two years ago, this level of autonomy had not been possible. 

The summer before junior year, after months of begging, Sadie and I had successfully convinced our parents to let us embark on a service trip to Peru with teens from across the world. 

Although the trip was supervised, we were to travel to and from the Cuzco airport alone, including multiple connecting flights in Atlanta and Lima. As eager 16-year-olds, the two of us pounced at this first chance of proving our independence. 

Our youth soon posed a problem. As we arrived at our connecting flight in Atlanta, we were informed of a country-wide IT shutdown of nearly all airplanes. Despite our insistence that we were independent, when faced with this real-world obstacle, our passports labeled us as two girls too young for responsibility. 

In mere seconds, we became two minors trapped overnight in Atlanta. Too young to rent a hotel room for the night, we were forced to take nap shifts slumped over in a crumbly airport seat outside our gate. 

Two years later, sprawled out on the crisp white sheets of my soft, albeit miniscule, bed in our Copenhagen hostel, I thought back to how much of a luxury this experience would have been in Atlanta, if we had simply been two years older.

I am not here to argue against the merits of maintaining a legal minimum age for certain opportunities and practices. After all, I would argue I am a more responsible person than I was at 16, unsupervised in the Atlanta airport. 

However, this capability was not unlocked on the morning of my 18th birthday. I did not wake up that day six inches taller with an intense desire to file my taxes. Instead, this skill came to me gradually through the experiences I held and the challenges I faced. 

My confinement in the Atlanta airport was among the most formative of those challenges. Beyond the legal age limitations I faced, I also struggled with acting adult: remaining assertive and composed throughout the whole ordeal. 

In uncomfortable situations, I had always used my parents as a shield. I let the adults do the talking. But when Sadie and I made our way alone to the desk of a short-tempered airport attendant, I soon understood that this time, I would have to stand up for myself. 

The new dynamic was difficult. When the first attendant we spoke to promptly shut our requests down, I very nearly burst into tears. Still, we pushed forward. 

As my weary 16-year-old body hobbled from one unaccommodating service desk to the next, I must have thought at least a hundred times that this terrible travel day had to have been some sort of punishment from beyond. 

But it’s possible this experience was not punishment, but practice. Practice in the ups and downs of becoming an adult.

Had I not taken the step—had my parents not allowed me to travel to Peru in the first place—I never would have known the joy of ditching familiar security for international adventure.

Had everything at the airport run smoothly, I never would have learned the self-advocacy skills necessary to have my questions answered and needs met in a time of crisis.

These little slices of autonomy throughout my childhood have shaped me into the person I am today. I hope I am someone who is informed enough to vote, thoughtful enough not to get an odd or impulsive tattoo, and responsible enough to travel across the Atlantic with only her friend as company. 

Although my age made travel to Copenhagen smoother, the skills I needed to navigate the city came from real-world experiences. Without my terrible day in Atlanta, I could not have had a wonderful week in Copenhagen. 

Plus, compared to the standby lines in Atlanta, Copenhagen’s passport control was a piece of cake. 

Maya Solomon graduated from Newton North High School in June and will attend Northwestern University in the fall. She is a former sports and features editor for North’s student newspaper, The Newtonite. She can be reached at mayaisolomon@gmail.com.