It’s official. My teenage years are over. I am 100% adult.
It’s funny. When we’re younger, we look up to these people who are 18 and older and assume they have it all figured out. We think they’re the epitome of ‘cool’ and we cannot wait for the day we become a fully fledged grown up. God, I even thought 16 year olds were pretty damn admirable. We approach these ages, however, with apprehension over the fact that we think we should have our shit together, when in reality it is the polar opposite.
The older I’ve got, the more I realise that people 10 years older than me still don’t know what they’re doing half the time. It’s just a fact of life. We all just bumble around hoping we’re doing the right thing in order to live a good life. We’re still going to be making mistakes and we’re still going to get feelings of anxiety at 50. Sure, we may feel a lot more confident in ourselves, but the reality is that nobody knows what they’re doing 100% of the time. That’s just life.
So, this is a message to my 10-year-old self. You thought you’d have achieved so many amazing things and be super cool and confident by the time you reach your second decade? I’m afraid not. You still haven’t learned how to drive, you’ve never had a proper job, you’ve only been in one real relationship that only lasted a few months and you’re still living at home with no intention of moving out anytime soon. However, it isn’t all doom and gloom! You’ve overcome some pretty dark days, made some good friends and you’re slowly paving your way into the media industry. Not too bad then, ‘eh?
I have no idea what my twentieth year will bring – hopefully some of the things I thought I’d have nailed down by now. But one thing I do know is that I do not feel like an adult. I’m still more obsessed with Hello Kitty than my 9-year-old sister and still have my side of the bedroom covered in posters. Who cares? I’m happy with this little life I’m living and I’m not going to change it in the name of being a ‘grown-up.’