Friday, January 29, 2010

Do we ever really grow up?

I’ve had this conversation with a few people recently; do we ever really grow up? Do we ever actually feel like an adult? I always looked forward to being an adult when I was younger and felt there’d be a time, a precise moment, when the transformation from young and naïve to older and wiser took place. “There,” I would say to myself, “I am now an adult.” But it never did.

I’m 30 years old and while I have plenty of responsibilities and grown-up stuff to contend with, I’m equally capable of farting under the bed covers and laughing hysterically about it, or dancing around the living room when a cheesy pop song comes on. I still throw things across the room when a temper consumes me and it gives me great pleasure to substitute words for emoticons when using MSN. I still get lectured by the dentist that I need to take better care of my gums and my mum still tells me off if I bite my nails.

I did feel pretty grown up when I bought my own house, taking my first step on the property ladder at the age of 23. I then bought my first lawnmower soon after and thought that was a pretty grown up purchase too. I must be a grown up, I cut my own grass! Now I’ve jumped off the property ladder and I don’t own a lawn mower anymore. But I do own a Magimix blender, which also has blades and is something only used by adults. And it was actually more expensive than my lawnmower, would you believe? You have to be a grown up if you own a Magimix, right? Or does getting enjoyment out of slicing vegetables into cool shapes and crushing ice appeal to kids too? Hmmm, probably.

But can we define adulthood in terms of products, like lawnmowers and blenders and houses? Probably not. I’m also at the age where my friends are getting married and having babies. Now that really is grown up! But equally so, while my close friends may have small children to raise, they still throw up after too many glasses of wine, tell silly jokes and scream when they see a spider. And all this in front of their kids. They haven’t suddenly become all serious and boring – they’re as mad as they ever were. So perhaps even having kids doesn’t turn you into a grown up either.

So maybe adulthood is just defined by your age, it’s not a feeling or a state of mind, it’s just a number. I am 30 therefore I am an adult, even if I don’t feel like one.

Picture by: Irargerich and taken from Flickr