Remember being like, 9 years old? All you had to do was go to school, do some homework, eat your peas and tidy up. Life is easy when you’re 9, for most people anyway. As much as I sometimes think it would be nice to be a carefree child again playing original Playstation and drinking Fruit Shoots, I wouldn’t honestly want to be 9 years old. (I hate peas)
Growing up is pretty good. You can get drunk and go out with your friends and spend money and buy as many pairs of Topshop jeans as you want. You can also go to bed when you want, book holidays you probably can’t quite afford, go out for breakfast (the best meal to eat out) and have Crunchy Nut for dinner if you fancy. The dream.
Well it is the dream, until you realise that the older you get the more problems you encounter. Illness, break ups, money troubles, job worries, people close to you getting even older. Gulp. All of these things start to nag a bit. Then you have a small breakdown mid-twenties because life is HARD and no one understands you but then everything sort of chills out and you realise it’s going be okay and you need to keep check of those hormones. Who invented hormones?
Basically growing up has been harder than I thought. I can’t say for sure what I thought it would be, but it’s been quite tough. I still wouldn’t swap it for a more care-free, primary school time (although someone needs to get on top of time travel) because being an adult is way better than being a kid, despite all the tests life throws at you. Maybe it was the fun, frolicking, blurry, blue VK-fuelled three year hiatus I took out of real life at uni, but actual grown up life can hit a bit hard.
You wouldn’t have imaged, swanning round some grotty nightclub having the best time ever aged 18, that in a few years you would face unemployment, illness, money troubles, sky high rent, anxiety, a bad break up. Whatever you’ve gone through, you just wouldn’t have imagined. Good job really because imagine actually dwelling on the chances of any those things. Grim. Let’s not do that. Let’s discourage our younger contacts from doing that too. Be good older siblings/friends/cousins/colleagues and discourage worrying. I know so many worriers, myself included, and it’s really not worth it.
The thing about growing up is, and this is something other people have helped me realise too, you just have to do it, deal with it and move on. Dwelling, reliving, trying to fix things that don’t matter now, drunk texts to the wrong people: so not worth it. Easier said than done, and we all need to learn the hard way, but by actually being responsible, (sometimes) rational grown-ups, we can make everything a bit easier.
Heaven knows being an adult is bloody hard at times. I mean think about sex. How many situations and problems and regrets and ‘OMG WHAT ARE YOU/AM I DOING’ moments can you rack up in your mind related to sex? Many, I reckon.
I bet you can also rack up a lot of problems that you could have dealt with better by actually, erm, dealing with them. Yeah, there’s the money shot, the bulls eye, the hole in one and other ‘you got it’ metaphors that I can’t think of.
Being a functioning, real adult with responsibilities, no matter how small, like even if you just have a goldfish or something, means you have shit to get in order. I mean you might choose to get drunk on vodka and do it tomorrow, and that’s fine because we all need to do it sometimes, but your to-do list won’t go away. Life fairies won’t come along and remove it, trust me, I’ve waited and they are yet to arrive.
The thing about growing up is, you’ve GOT to deal with stuff. Don’t be Nick from New Girl. Flamingos bury their head in the sand. We are not flamingos.
(They actually don’t, I googled it, it’s a myth, but you get the point.)