12 years ago today I stood with my high school boyfriend and opened my A-level results. Outwardly pleased with the three C’s I had achieved, I was inwardly crushed that I had let this relationship take time away from my studies and that these grades didn’t match up to the almost straight A’s of my GCSEs. It would be another year before I realised that the relationship was toxic and taking over my whole life, but that day I think I learnt a little about what it really meant to put yourself first.
12 years have passed and, while so much has changed in my life, I can’t help but feel that this ‘growing up’ thing we are all meant to did is a little bit of a sham.
I still haven’t quite worked out what I want to be when I’m a grown-up. For a while I thought it was teaching, and I have also had stints in banking, as a personal trainer, a swimming teacher, a barmaid, and a SAHM. At the moment I am happy playing about on the internet, writing some words and calling it work, so i’ll go with that for now.
While my boyfriend my have changed, and the one I have now has even progressed to husband status, I am still pretty sure I’m 18 in my head.
Me, the summer I turned 18
When someone in the street says ‘mind out of the lady’s way’ I turn round to look for the grown-up behind me. And the fact that I am someones Mum is quite simply laughable, how did anyone think that was a good idea?
While I spend my days doing housework and devising nutritious family meals on the outside, I’m secretly (or maybe not so secretly now) planning my next trip to Ibiza in my head and wondering if Jagger Bombs would be a good idea at our next dinner party.
I may have a joint account, a mortgage and the word Mrs at the front of my name, but when no one is looking I put on Jungle and rave round my lounge like a loon.
I still put crisps in my sandwiches and find myself drawing love hearts round my husbands name on my work notes. I cuddle the throw on our bed like a comfort blanket and when the going gets tough I call my Mum to fix it.
At the hospital last week a doctor described me to a colleague as a female in her 30′s – so it must be true – but I really don’t feel like I am.
I’m 18 – just fast forwarded a little bit.
As a child all you want to do it get older. You imagine big houses and lots of money.
Now I realise that being a grown-up is just picking the things you loved most about being a teenager and trying to re-live them when no one is looking.
So, with that in mind, I’m actually a pretty damn good at being a grown up afterall!
