When I was younger I was desperate to grow up. Teachers, and other people belonging to that group of tall all knowing beings, told me that I was mature for my age. I fed off of that - promptly stopping at road crossings to prove that I didn't need reminding, dismissing the activities of my peers as trivial and always churning with anxiety that I would slip up and act like my true age.
I'm 18 now. Old enough to smugly sing over the two lovebirds in the Sound of Music. I am 18 going on 19 and still so stupidly young. Shockingly, I have grown up and changed since being a child, but not in the way that I expected. I'm not as scared of letting loose now. I go clubbing in loud, dark, cramped rooms and actually enjoy myself, because I'm with my friends and missing a lecture is nothing compared to missing a mortgage payment.
Actual adulthood is still so much further than I thought it would be at this age. Honestly, part of myself doesn't want to admit this, I'm glad. I'm glad that I don't have to be capital R responsible yet and I'm no longer out of step with my peers. Being young and careless, always rushing towards the edge of actually getting hurt minus occasionally toppling over, is fun. Having decades stretching out in front of you to correct and learn from mistakes is freeing.
When I was desperate to act 'grown up,' what I really wanted was security. At the time being an adult seemed like being a finished product that never made mistakes. Except now I know that adults screw up all the time. There's no place in life of final safety where everything is neatly organised. As a child I was so mean to myself, expecting a perfection falsely equated with adulthood, which meant avoiding anything that seemed remotely like fun.
Now I have a lot more balance and I know that I'll never be done 'growing.' In a weird way, recognising this is a sign of maturity, but in a much more healthy way. I recognise that in decades' time I'll laugh at how little I knew now, but I don't dwell on that. I'm proud of the introspective parts of myself that reach to be a better person, but I'm also willing to cut myself some slack. This growing up business is weird, because being alive and conscious and always changing is.
- Ayomide
I'm 18 now. Old enough to smugly sing over the two lovebirds in the Sound of Music. I am 18 going on 19 and still so stupidly young. Shockingly, I have grown up and changed since being a child, but not in the way that I expected. I'm not as scared of letting loose now. I go clubbing in loud, dark, cramped rooms and actually enjoy myself, because I'm with my friends and missing a lecture is nothing compared to missing a mortgage payment.
Actual adulthood is still so much further than I thought it would be at this age. Honestly, part of myself doesn't want to admit this, I'm glad. I'm glad that I don't have to be capital R responsible yet and I'm no longer out of step with my peers. Being young and careless, always rushing towards the edge of actually getting hurt minus occasionally toppling over, is fun. Having decades stretching out in front of you to correct and learn from mistakes is freeing.
When I was desperate to act 'grown up,' what I really wanted was security. At the time being an adult seemed like being a finished product that never made mistakes. Except now I know that adults screw up all the time. There's no place in life of final safety where everything is neatly organised. As a child I was so mean to myself, expecting a perfection falsely equated with adulthood, which meant avoiding anything that seemed remotely like fun.
Now I have a lot more balance and I know that I'll never be done 'growing.' In a weird way, recognising this is a sign of maturity, but in a much more healthy way. I recognise that in decades' time I'll laugh at how little I knew now, but I don't dwell on that. I'm proud of the introspective parts of myself that reach to be a better person, but I'm also willing to cut myself some slack. This growing up business is weird, because being alive and conscious and always changing is.
- Ayomide
