ageing
many people will tell me i have not yet earned the right to write this post. but i think i have. and this is story of my life. no one else thinks i’m old enough, ever. but i do.
for as long as i can remember, i have wanted to be older. just older. maybe this was born from my constantly being around people that were older than i was, watching them reaching out to life in a way that i couldn’t, yet.
when i was 11, i wanted to be 13, finally a teenager!
when i was 13, i wanted to be 16, three whole years older and finally, sweet sixteen.
when i was 16, i wanted to be 17, just a year older so i could lull in post-exams freedom.
when i was 17, i wanted to be 18. just because. 18 sounds so fucking cool.
when i was 18, i wanted desperately to be 19.
18 is that annoying age at which people raise their eyebrows and cluck their tongues upon finding out how old you are; ‘oh, 18, finally an adult’. i thought it would be fantastic, but 19 is better because i’m no longer a fumbling novice in adulthood, people don’t pat me on the back for turning 18 anymore, like it’s an achievement on my part. no thank you, i’m a proper oldie now, comfortably settled in.
and now, still, i want to be older.
if i had greaduated last year, i would have cried. i would have clung to the fading memories of my school life and wept with my class mates. now, i no longer feel nostalgic or sad at the thought of leaving it all behind. in fact, i can’t wait.
what i’m trying to say is, i never stopped wanting to be ‘old enough’. maybe one never can be.
every birthday is the same as before, every passing year feels the same, like nothing has happened at all. until i sit down and count the number of ways in which my life has changed. in particular, this last year, my life has changed a lot. and i’m breathless with waiting for everything else.
i’ve learnt that life has its own way of bringing age upon you. a calm, grounded way. if age happened any differently, any quicker, like i spent so many years of my life hoping it would, the results it would be unimaginable.
the thing i like most about age, seems the most obvious; that it calmed me the fuck down. i love it. i can’t wait for the rest.
trust me time will come……especially when you’re 29, you dont want to live to see 30
Comment by horus — May 30, 2007 @ 2:07 pm
I miss my childhood. Like you, I spent most of it trying to be older, without enjoying it for what it was.
I wore make-up, dressed to look like an adult, started drinking, went to clubs, had boyfriends, and even slept with a guy. All before I was 18.
Now I’m 26, and I’ve come to realise that I have the rest of my life to do those things, but I threw away the years where I didn’t have to do those things, where I could’ve been carefree, and enjoyed being young for being young.
Adulthood is highly overrated. I miss being a kid, being innocent, playing in the garden and watching Disney movies. If I had my teen years again I wouldn’t spend them trying to be an adult. I’d be a teenager, without those peer pressures, enjoying the years that I’ll never get back.
No offence, but maybe you are still too young to see this. Love your blog!
Comment by Jenn — May 31, 2007 @ 7:28 pm
Honey, give it 5 more years
19 is a baby adult. The introduction to life, responsibility, the real world.
OMG highschool’s over now so is life……
Comment by D — June 6, 2007 @ 8:42 pm