You would think at the age of 41 (oh my, it still hurts to say that) I would be comfortable with the label grown-up. But it’s just, well, it’s just I don’t feel like a grown-up, or rather it isn’t how I imagined it would be.
There are points along the way, when society crowns you with grown-up status: when you are 18 and can legally vote; when you turn 21 (not sure what actually changes at 21 these days, but it’s a good excuse for a party); when you move out from the family home and no longer have direct access to the Bank of Mum and Dad.
Or, I often ponder, whether you are ever really a grown-up until you have children, and have to put someone else first.
When I was younger, I always associated grown-up status with reaching a place when it all made sense; I genuinely thought that there was a moment in life you arrived at where you just got it, that you finished your growing up apprenticeship and moved on to official adulthood, a place where you were now good at the job of life. Ha!
My first taste of this untruth was when I discovered that my parents didn’t know everything: the realisation that they were just doing their best, and essentially making it up as they went along (yes, like all parents).
Of course, then I headed into my teenage years and didn’t give a damn what my parents thought. What the hell did they know? At the age of sixteen, I was the fountain of ALL knowledge – obviously – and definitely knew more than my parents; I declared never to make the mistakes they had made, and to be successful, happy and excellent at life. Simple.
But as I left my bolshy teenage years behind, the truth came to bite me on my know-it-all ass. And I discovered it’s even worse than I had first thought: it is not just your parents who don’t have all the answers, it is everyone; there is not a magical age at which you arrive when you suddenly understand life. Sure, you learn stuff along the way, but then you just become aware of some other stuff you don’t know.
On the outside, I have all the makings of a grown-up: I answer to the very grown-up sound of Mrs Cripps; there is always food in the fridge and spare toilet rolls in the cupboard; I drink wine (although not at the moment *sob*) not pints of cider or shots of tequila; I go out to lunch or dinner with friends, rather than falling out of clubs at 3 am and wobbling home; I visit museums, go to the theatre and watch films with subtitles; holidays are now referred to as travelling and are to learn about the world, not to party with the girls and frizzle on the beach.
When I look at my friends with children – the same friends I used to fall out of those clubs with – I’m not sure if they are more grown-up than me. They certainly have more responsibility, and less freedom (and lighter purses) but they have not acquired the answers to life – I don’t think. Of course, they are experiencing something I will never get to experience, and that does give them a different perspective on life.
With no plans to have children, maybe I am Ms Peter Pan – albeit a wrinkled version – who gets to be as selfish with my time in my 40s (ooh, that hurt too) as I was in my 20s – I just choose to spend my time in a different way.
But if being a grown-up is about becoming more sensible and, dare I say it, boring (although, I would prefer to say more cultured) then I have arrived, it just doesn’t feel like I thought it would. But I suspect I will be saying exactly the same in 20 years time.
Hey, maybe this kind of wisdom maketh the grown-up.
This post was inspired by one of the questions asked in VEDA – Vlog Every Day in August – which two blogging friends, Billygean and Jacki, are taking part in. (I am not brave enough to vlog.) You can see their thoughts on this topic here:
Billygean’s thoughts on being an adult
hah, thank you for linking out to my wide-eyed mortgage panic! i’m still in recovery.
No problem! What are blogging friends for, eh? That will teach you to be brave enough to vlog…
And the irony is that if you do have children you no longer get to see any films that are grown up and cultured with subtitles – it’s always something from Pixar with talking animals…
Hehe… Never thought about it like this. Although talking animals sound fun?!
Hope you doing okay lovely (amazing, ‘don’t know how you do it’, super mum).
Xx
Oh, my sisters and I at the age of (well, old enough to know better) still argue over who gets to go in the front of the car with my mum. Plus we get upset if there’s no tangerine included in the Christmas pressies
Yeah, that’s fair enough – front seat is loads better!
But something weird happens when we’re with siblings and parents doesn’t it? Like the crazy adolescent just reappears from nowhere.
Nice to see you again Miss Heels and Glitter… Xx
The change for me was in the year or two after turning 50. The realisation for me (similar to yours I think), was along the lines of: They are just like me, nobody has all the answers.
Ah, so it’s not going to all suddenly make sense at 50 either…!
‘Fraid not
It always hits me when I try on a very grown up dress for example and at 39 I suddenly look so womanly, when I look in the mirror I wonder who the grown up is looking back at me! I too don’t have children and like you wonder if you ever feel grown up until you do, however I like the way my mind is young and hope it lasts until I am 101! x
It hits me when I look in the mirror and my laughter lines are looking right back at me. How very dare they!
I don’t get it with clothes so much – I hope this doesn’t mean I’m dressing too young (the hot-pants need to go don’t they?).
But yes, looks like the mind ain’t ever gonna grow-up. Hurrah!
Lovely to see you here as ever Sarah, hope things are cool with you… Xx
Another good one, I believe that you never really grow up. All that happens is that your responsibilities and actions change.
Thank you!
Here’s to never growing up… and avoiding responsibility if at all possible 🙂
Yes I’m afraid I do feel grown up. Too grown up. I’m 15 but I’ve always been mature for my age. I feel like I should be a 60 year old woman! I’m not interested in getting drunk and going to clubs like all the other girls my age!
Hey Chloe
It’s good to be different (it’s what makes us all so fabulous!); and good for you for just being yourself.
I’ll have to come to you when I need answers! 🙂
Thank you for coming by… Xx
You mean you don’t have all the answer Karen…..
Sorry James. Should I stop coming to see you now you know the awful truth?! Xx
Pretty sure life ends just before you know all the answers, so I would enjoy your ignorance to the full!
Embracing all this ignorance is rather liberating!
I will never feel like a grown-up. And, I think that’s a good thing. : )
And after seeing your wonderful spirit jump (or should I say dance!) off the page on your blog, I think you have got it very right 🙂
: )
Hit 30 a few months back, and I definitely don’t feel grown-up yet! Not sure if thats good or bad….
Cool post though!
Thank you!
From what everyone has said, growing-up seems a little overrated 🙂