A wee while ago, I spied a link to this article on Facebook. I’m QUITE interested in the notion of being grown up, so I speedily clicked over and had a read. Hm. Interesting. For me it raised more questions than it answered really. That is my kind of article. I like having questions floating about like that. It makes me wonder about things. That day, it made me wonder about ‘growing up’ and whether we ever do come of age. I am still wondering, in fact. Maybe you can help me work this out.
I remember my Mum saying to me years ago that she felt pretty much the same as she did when she was 21 or 22, despite parts of her being a titch older than that. My Nan tearfully said the same thing, on a different occasion, remarking how young she felt in her head, but how weary she felt, at times, in her body. I could see then that ageing was not all that it seemed to be.
‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ we curiously ask small children. We are so very sure that being grown up is a destination we are all headed to. We are planning the trip from an early age, quite sure that as the years pass us by, we’ll get to Grown Up. But what does it feel like when you get there?! Do you feel different? Do you know when you’ve arrived? Is it like being on very long train trip? Does the station master call ‘Adulthood!!’ when you reach the end of the line?! (I think I missed that train…)
I don’t doubt that we gain more wisdom as we experience more, but I wonder if you can be wise and not grown up? Hm. For me, the things that define an interesting person are varied. Smartness and wisdom are more important than maturity, to me. Kindness and innovation more valued than the supposed dignity and stoicism of adulthood. But maybe I’ve got the ‘grown up’ modus operandi all wrong. Getting your driver’s license, being old enough to sip wine at the local pub, paying tax, reaching the age of consent. These are all things that SEEM to mark those first steps into adulthood. And yet. I know plenty of wine drinking, car driving, tax paying scamps who are less than grown up. Go figure.
Some of my very favourite people exhibit delightful child-like qualities. They are fresh, sweet, naughty and fun in ways that don’t seem to fit the ‘Adult’ mould, and yet, they are Grown Up.
Speaking for myself, I am exhibiting the usual adulthood indicators. I have children, lots of bills to pay. I drive a car, sometimes with a valid license. I only occasionally get asked for ID at the bottle shop or local bar. And yet. I don’t really feel that grown up! But I am Grown Up. (I think.)
Maybe this is the very thing my Nan was tearfully trying to explain all those years ago. She’d had a child, buried a husband, raised three grandchildren, too. If she didn’t feel grown up, what hope is there for me?! And does it matter anyway?
So what do you think? Do we ever really Grow Up? Or perhaps we just LOOK grown up, and are really just wiser versions of our childhood selves? What defines a Grown Up?! And did you miss the train?
xx Pip
This piece was first published on
JustB.
