I was once again reminded of my age (31) whilst on holiday, celebrating my brother’s eighteenth birthday. His eighteenth birthday the little bastard.
Excuse the weird pic. I wanted to do an aged ‘comedy’ photo and this Einstein filter was the closest thing Snapchat had.
Now 31 might sound old to some of you or actually quite young to others – it depends what side of the hill you’re sitting on. But I’m quite a young 31 (and for young you should read immature). I’m not married and I don’t have children or a mortgage. My boyfriend of eight years only moved in last year and the idea of kids still seems faintly ridiculous though I do really like them (same wavelength).
I still call adults ‘adults’ even though, technically, I am one (I say it in the same way a teenager bunking off school might) and I frequently drive around with my friends listening to Limp Bizkit or Oxide and Neutrino. I innocently asked once whether this would be lame once we reached our 40s. I was bluntly told “it’s lame now”. Okay.
My point is in my head I still feel….maybe 24 or 25? Independent but not responsible. So anyway me (31), my boyfriend (29 – also a bastard), my sister and her boyfriend (both around the 23 mark) and my tiny, weeny little brother (18 of course ) went to Amsterdam for the weekend and because it’s a popular place for holidays and the whole coffee shop thing and people going away and causing trouble etc., tourists get ID’ed a lot. Except me apparently because every place we visited the conversation basically went like this –
(surly doorman) “ID please.”
all of us go to get our ID
(surly doorman to me) “Just them, not you.”
(me) *looks round at everyone laughing on the outside but crying on the inside*
And it reminded me of the first time I ever felt ‘old’ and like a boring old adult and an actual real age defining moment of my life. I was standing outside Nandos (cheeky) in Chelmsford (standard) waiting for some friends to have dinner with when a group of teens came up the high street on skateboards and bikes. I then heard –
“be careful there’s a lady standing there”
And I very quickly realised they meant me. No longer was I girl, nope – I was a lady.
Sounds ridiculous (I know I’m being ridiculous) but it felt like a pinnacle moment as it dawned me how the youngsters saw me now as an adult. Very polite lads though I must say – and am I showing my age by saying that?