Growing Up

Recently, whilst scrolling down my twitter feed and procrastinating on other social media platforms, I’ve seen an increasing amount of people utter the words, ‘I wish I was little again..’ or ‘I want to be a child again’. Now these people aren’t old, and not even close to being old enough to be in the midst of a midlife crisis yet - but instead are late teens(I’m not an adult, I can’t be an adult yet ok, I have one year left of ‘teen’ being at the end of my age and I intend to cherish it) and 20 somethings, who are beginning to realise that life isn’t all ice creams, Disney channel and playing Bulldog in the playground(can anyone remember that game – bless us..). 

For a split second I went to agree with them, but as I thought about it I realised that actually, I’ve loved ‘growing up’, moving out, going to university etc. I’m not about to do a mystical speech on ‘finding yourself’ because frankly, I think if that’s what you’re looking for, you’re never going to find it – it will happen in time, without desperate attempts of forcing yourself to become a certain person or ‘thing’. I do think however, that moving out of the family home at 18 and going to university in Newcastle, miles away from home, has been the best thing that I could ever have done.  

I didn’t immediately love university or being away from home. In fact, I’m pretty sure I had one of the most horrendous fresher’s weeks ever but looking back now, I love that I experienced the struggle of adjusting to life outside of my little comfort bubble, especially now, as I can see just how much I’ve grown, changed and developed as my own person. 

Now I’m not saying that being a child again would be the worst thing in the entire world and I definitely do not think that at the start of every month when money flies out of my account to cover rent and bills. Playing ‘out’ with friends, watching Tracy Beaker and eating as many Haribo sweets as physically possible without the thought of calories, sugar or weight even entering my head sounds fabulous, but I’ve been there, done that and now I want to experience more.  

I think actually it’s the freedom. The freedom of being able to do what you want, when you want(I mean, within reason – take university and work out of the equation). The freedom to not have to answer to anyone(apart from a flatmate when they shriek, WHO’S LEFT THEIR MOULDY FOOD IN THE BOTTOM OF THE FRIDGE?!...my bad.) The freedom…wait for it...to do my own food shopping(is it weird that I love to go food shopping? Literally the highlight of my week –don’t be jealous of my exciting life...). Just having the ability to organise and figure out my own life and direction is such a good feeling.  

I haven’t come from a horrible home or place – the complete opposite in fact! I love home. And I miss home too. Nothing is better than eating a home cooked meal, or getting into a freshly made bed that you haven’t struggled to make up(swearing at a duvet isn’t good for anyone) but I would never have appreciated that as much as I do now, without having to fend for myself and experience these grossly boring tasks. Of course there are times when I hate not living at home, for selfish and non-selfish reasons.. Coming down to a disgustingly full sink of dirty pots to wash, washing and ironing my own clothes and cleaning mildew off the shower isn’t particularly what I had in mind for living the oh so glamourous independent life.  I do miss having those reassuring natters with my mum or grandma over a cuppa or a laugh with my dad on a daily basis but now, I appreciate the time I do spend with them so much more. Two things that no one should ever take for granted. Family and time. 

I’m so excited for my future but more importantly, I’m loving the present too. I love living with friends, I love visiting and appreciating family and home. I love that I finally have some sort of direction with what I want to do, how I want to live and the person I want to be.

Nothing says living life as a student like scratching stale porridge off the top you’ve just picked up off the floor and thrown on, whilst trying to drag a brush through your hair as you’re running out the door(hahahah no I’ve never done that hahaha) but no one said growing up is a fairytale and I wouldn't want it any other way.