Me, 19, going on 20.
Just look at that baby face. I'm not ashamed of having the chubbiest cheeks in the North of England, and whilst I do get ID'd at every opportunity, I wouldn't change my face (puppy fat and all) for anything. What's startling me most is the fact that I turn twenty years old in just under a month. I'd never considered such an age until I met a boy from London, who was 4 years my senior. We're no longer in contact, but that made me wake up and realise, well, I'm hitting my twenties soon. No longer a teenager. That means no more excuses for being pointlessly stroppy, where a grunt is no longer acceptable as an answer, and boyfriends must now appear respectful to my parents, not the usual 'types'. My my.
I didn't think leaving my teens would bother me this much, they've been a very turbulent time for me. Being diagnosed with depression, losing two members of my family, these two (or three, I guess) periods in my life just made everything that bit more difficult. I may be carrying my good friend D into my twenties, but my teens were by no means perfect. But no-one's are, are they? I've been referred to as an 'old-soul', or 'mother hen' too many times, but it's stuck, I am a bit old for my age. So why am I not embracing the transformation from girl to woman?
Maybe it's the pace. Within a month I'll have hit the big 2-0, will be living away from home again but this time in a self-catered environment, in the suburbs of Liverpool, with 7 people I have never lived with before. Buying all my kitchen utensils today was both slightly entertaining (sad, I know) and also very daunting. I bought a grater, sieve, chopping board, salt and pepper grinders... all the while, I was longing to go and get my new bedsheets, which I will snuggle up to every night. See, as much as I can be independent when it's expected of me, I love being looked after. Just ask my ex. I loved nothing more than lying on his lap, with him brushing my hair. Sound like a 5 year old don't I? I just like being looked after like that. It's not a case of me stomping if I don't get to act like I'm still a child, it's just I like that little protective barrier around me, so if anything goes wrong, I have a safety net, know what I mean? As I write this, I can hear the odd rumble of thunder in the distance, and want nothing more than to snuggle up with my mum in bed. So for someone like me, turning 20, cooking fully for myself, paying bills myself, will come as a huge shock.
I guess I'm just trying to prepare myself for it.
Does anyone else vaguely understand where I'm coming from here? Isn't growing older that little bit scary, or is it just me?