I don’t feel like a ‘grown up’. When do you start to feel like a ‘grown up’? I remember asking this question to some colleagues. “You don’t”, they said.
As a kid, I always thought there would be one defining, full-moon-werewolf-like moment that would come to be and I’d exclaim from the mountain tops of adulting, “I’M A GROWN UP!”
That hasn’t happened and it never will. Reason being? My idea of a grown up meant you had nothing left to learn. All of your decisions were the ‘right’ ones. No mistakes. You’ve aced life and are now floating on by in a pretty cherry blossom of existence, softly ping ponging off of mortgages, marriage, conferences and parents’ evenings.
To me, grown ups were the epitome of calm and collected. Not the flawed adults I knew. But real grown ups. The ones who would walk into an office, Bluetooth in one ear finalising a deal, signing for a delivery with one hand while sending an email from their Blackberry in the other. Appearance beyond pristine. An avenger/supermodel hybrid. They look like they smell good. A spicy caramel, chestnut like fragrance. Beneath that, the scent of some boujee body lotion that most people would only use on special occasions (mainly because they got a tiny bottle in a perfume shop birthday gift box). All of this while exuding the warmth and comfort of a chicken pot pie. And of course they went home to their loving nuclear family of wife/husband and 2.4 kids in their 4 bed detached house, newly renovated conservatory and next year’s holiday already paid for.
What I’ve described is a fallacy. Grown ups are mythical. Something dreamt up for us to aspire to but can’t actually achieve because there is no end for growing up. Other than death. Even if part of someone’s day mimics the above, it’s exactly that. Only part of someone’s day. After the insane multi-tasking, they’d probably cry into their emails realising they’d fucked up somewhere or calmly sip the coffee they’re cradling before starting the storm of tasks to complete before 10am. (Context switching trumps multi-tasking. Both are a bit shite though)
Why did I think grown ups had everything together, all of the time? I didn’t have real life role models displaying these characteristics. The majority of tv I watched did not provide the most promising representations of grown ups (Footballers’ Wives anyone? I was waaay too young to be watching that lol). Maybe the dream of one day being an assembled, squeaky-clean, perfect porcelain doll of an adult who wouldn’t live in a cesspool of destruction, gave kid-me hope. Hope that even though everything was messy, one day it wouldn’t be.
LOL. Jeez. Can we just have a moment for innocent kid-me possessed by naiveté? Poor bubs.
The disorder of life obviously did not stop. It just took on different forms and spread itself across different stages. Like an adventure game. What perplexing conundrum must I unravel today to progress further. How many chances do I have? What tools can I use? It’s exhausting. I needed respite. So I picked up a tool. Problem was I couldn’t put it down. It didn’t fix anything but it was my fix. It didn’t feel problematic though. All of the other grown ups did it too. If everyone else is counting down the minutes until they can seize their first drink, that means it’s fine right?
It’s packaged as a normalised vice to take the edge off of life. It’s drinks with the girls, pub after work, mid week wine, its 5pm somewhere, Friday drinks, Saturday night pre drinks, hair of the dog to fix the hangover. God, it’s everywhere all of the time. Tv, film, music, adverts, on buses, train stations. It’s everywhere and everything is telling me it is fine. It is normal to drink. Go on, stay and have another. What’s not normal is not drinking. When someone would say they didn’t drink, I was the wanker who’d question why. I was the dickhead who said what’s the point of non-alcoholic drinks. Alcohol was meant to be this fun thing I could do as a grown up to deal with bills, deadlines and meetings. How is it my fault that I couldn’t moderate an addictive substance that is marketed as anything but?
Ageing means the main tool I have in my arsenal is the ball and chain of experience that tags along as I drag it along from level to level. Anyone older than 29 (my age) will probably want to throw me in the bin for talking about what ageing has given me. Will referring to it as ‘growing up’ feel less eye-rolly?
I wanted to list a bunch of things but ain’t nobody got time for that. So here’s the most important:
I have more compassion for myself. This allows me to strive for the best, without beating myself up if things don’t work out. Consequently, I have less for people who make my life unnecessarily harder. I regularly think, “Why are you like this?” and speculate. Insecure? Sad? Tough time? Privilege? Then I think, “But why should I afford you this understanding that you so clearly aren’t affording me, even at a surface level?” Then I think, “Not my problem. You do you. Ima do me.” Younger me had compassion and empathy for days (one of the things I’ve lost to a degree in sobriety - read 3 things I lost in sobriety). Justifying why someone behaved like an arsewipe made it easier to understand them, which is something I cared to do regularly. Now I’m more cautious with the time and energy I spend on trying to understand people. I value my time and not everyone is deserving of it.
This is where my boundaries kick in. Planting boundaries and standing up for myself, even when it’s uncomfortable or downright terrifying is a necessity. Sometimes being passive is safe. No ruffled feathers means there’s less chances of being kicked out of the henhouse. But why would I want to stay where I’m being smothered? The weight of adhering to external expectations, holding those socially conditioned values on a pedestal so high above my own intrinsic beliefs…I’ve found it typically hurts me in the long run.
I think being a grown up is spending my time doing what feels right for me. Selfish? Maybe. But no one will get the best version of me if I’m only living half my truth. Staying true to myself but allowing room to manoeuvre as I continue to learn and explore all of the things that make up life. Being accountable and letting go of ego. One thing might change my entire life and that might feel right for a season. But then it might not and I change again, building myself into the person I want to be. Not the grown up I thought I was meant to be.
My mum is 67 and says she still doesn’t feel like a grown up 🤣
As a fellow 29-year-old, I could relate to this SO much -- the struggles with moderating alcohol, the confusion of not being the “grown up” I’d envisioned at this point, the ability to finally be kind to myself and not let so many people zap my energy.
I really resonate with the idea that being a grown up means doing what feels right. There’s so much pressure these days and endless comparison traps telling us what milestones we “should” have achieved, or what we “should” be doing with our lives. It’s difficult but liberating to be able to cut through that.
Really enjoyed reading this! Thanks for writing it! :)