No-one told me when I was a kid that there isn’t an actual point when you become a grown-up. No sudden transformation when you just ‘get’ it, no ceremonial induction into the hallowed world of Adulthood. Instead, we muddle through our teenage years and suddenly find ourselves in a job, paying bills and taxes. We are obligated to deal with all manner of responsibilites despite being woefully underprepared.
I still don’t see myself as any different to when I was 19. I still have the same hang-ups, insecurities and faults as I did then. I’m probably a little better at coping with them now, but I still feel like I’m floundering around, not having a clue. I don’t expect this will ever change.
It’s not as if I feel like this everyday. I mean, most days I’m busy shouting at idiots who can’t use a Library, fuming at idiots on my bus and being an idiot at home. It’s only when big life events start happening that I get a funny jolt. This year has seen one of my best friends get engaged and the other have a baby. Very early this morning the very lovely Abby and Tony (who got married last year) welcomed the gorgeous little Willow into the world. I’m incredibly excited to meet her!
But when all these big important adult things happen, I’m only reminded of precisely how I’m not really an adult. I certainly don’t feel like one. I probably never will feel like one. I’m an imposter in the land of relationships, mortgages, reproducing and careers. I’m certain I’m going to be found out. Until then, I can only continue to muddle on in my unique cack-handed fashion, in the vain hope that I’ll someday get to participate in one of these big important adult things of my own.