So this is growing up?

I have always hated change. It didn't matter how slight, I hated it. When my mom used to clean my room (yeah, my mom used to clean my room, so what? jealous much?) I couldn't watch; it sent me into a panic attack. Whenever anyone used to tell me they were thinking about moving from one apartment to another, or changing jobs, or dating someone new, I was against it. Fervently, and without reason. I recognized it as an immature part of my personality, and always I hoped that someday I would grow out of it. I assumed the nature pattern of growth would be that I would realize within my heart of hearts that that other person's actions had no baring on my life, and I have no right to act as if I have any say in what they do, or do not do. But that wasn't the case. Although, just recently, I've noticed I no longer boil at the thought of other people's change, it isn't because I respect that their decisions are their own. Its just that I no longer give a crap.

Is this what being an adult feels like?