Jenny Morrissey, Managing Editor
I’m old. Of course I may not look it (I hope), but I cannot help but feel with every fleeting day, I am becoming outdated. The majority of my friends still in high school are seventeen or sixteen, so I feel like I am passing them by with my impending eighteenth birthday. I am most likely over thinking the whole thing, but the “big one-eight” is made out to be such a great ordeal that I cannot think of the matter any other way. Sure, being independent sounds great, and some of the perks that go hand and hand with becoming an adult are cool. When I step back from the big picture though, other thoughts have the time to creep in and remind me of the subtleties that Wow; I’m going to be an adult.
The added responsibilities that I gain once I grow up do not seem that bad either – it is mainly that I will no longer have my parents holding my hand every step of the way. Becoming more independent sounds great – don’t get me wrong. But then there lurks the idea of being without an adult figure to guide me. It is frightening at times knowing that I am going to have to be my own guide; not to mention that there is always: What if I mess up? I would have to find a way to adapt to the situation myself, which I may not be able to handle. Being reminded of all of the consequences of my actions like being arrested if I suddenly decide to rob a bank out of the blue, for example, or tried as an adult as an adult are a terrible precursor to the idea that Oh God, what if I really do mess up? There is also the added dread of possibly being called for jury duty. And then the anxiety grows.
It really is scary, even though it may not seem it. Truthfully, I would love to be a grown up from time to time. Making up my own rules and only being responsible for myself seems great to be honest. It is when those little fears of making mistakes are thrown into the equation when I feel antsy about the whole eighteen thing. There are times when I was younger and wished to be a grown up, but now that I have actually reached that point in my life I am unsure.
There is also an overwhelming amount of nostalgia that clouds my vision and floods my thoughts constantly – as it does with any big birthday. And I know I must sound crazy when I rant about the little things I miss from elementary school: the swirly orange slide, racing to the big rock at the end of the field, building snowmen on the baseball field. They remind me of the earlier days when your biggest problem was mixing the wrong to colors of Play Dough or messing up on a multiplication table quiz. Life complicates with age, and I am not sure if I will be completely ready for this transformation. But I can’t help all of the reminders that I will not be able to act like a child as much.
I am sure I can’t be the only one experiencing this quarter-life crisis, but maybe it is just another birthday. Maybe I am over thinking things. But before you turn eighteen, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed. There is not a manual teaching you how to be an adult, and there is not even a warning as to when you have stopped being a kid. For all I know, I’m already a grown up; there is no way to tell. Everything just happens so quickly that I am sure I won’t even see it coming. All I know is that I still love watching certain Disney Channel shows, and I’m not going to stop wearing footy pajamas any time soon. So maybe turning eighteen isn’t where becoming a true adult will start. Personally, I’m thinking about staying put, as a kid, just a little while longer.
