the teenager that i am and am not

 I was waiting for my friend at a shopping centre today. I had some errands to run before seeing her and, as I often do, I severely overestimated the amount of time I'd need and ended up having to wait for over an hour. I came prepared with a book, so I wasn't too upset about having to waste some time there. I found a free table in the fairly empty food court area, plugged in my ever-dying phone and pulled out a book from my bag. I couldn't stay focused for too long, though, as groups of teenagers started passing me by or sitting at the tables around. I checked the time; it was nearing 3PM, so it made sense that the shopping centre was slowly, but surely becoming crowded with teens. A group of boys sat across from me, all wearing white shirts under puffer jackets and carrying plastic trays full of food from various fast food joints surrounding us.

That's when I was hit with the realisation, which I have around 3 times a month on average — I am definitely not a teenager anymore. 

I remember roaming around that same shopping centre with my friends after school, rarely buying anything, treating ourselves to a coffee when costa had a 2-for-1 deal on Wednesdays (or was it Thursdays? I can't remember) so we could each split the price with another person. It feels like yesterday, but somehow also lifetimes ago. I don't speak to most people I used to be friends with then, I don't know if we'd recognise each other on the street if we were to cross paths.  

The thing is, I often do still feel like I'm 17. I feel immature, like I'm not taking life seriously enough, like I have no idea where my life is headed... And it's not special, almost every young adult these days says they feel like they're younger. Videos with that goddamn "Suddenly it's December and you're not 17 anymore" quote were plaguing my tiktok for you page all December. Every other person yearns to return to some imagined, idealised age they don't actually remember being. Either way, I don't feel grown-up at all. That is, until I see an actual 17 year old and I realise there are decades between us. Well, not literally, I'm not that old, I'm 22.

This realisation usually hits in one of two situations. When I'm confronted by someone who is actually the age I forget I'm not anymore — seeing freshers stumbling around the university halls, my younger brother's friends, overhearing teens in public. Or, when I take a step back and see my own adulthood — when I see one of my old friends from school pregnant, when I talk to my friends about jobs and rent, when I look around on a date with my boyfriend and we say "Oh, God we're a real adult couple on a real date." And in a way I enjoy it! I enjoy being able to make serious decisions about my life, I enjoy my independence and freedom, even if still somewhat limited.

I can't quite put a finger on what it is that makes me realise it. I don't feel particularly mature, I still feel a similar sense of "I don't know what I'm doing and what I want" I did when I was younger. And yet there's something about the way teenagers speak, in this sincerely confident and all-knowing fashion, the way they move through the world, something about it all just strikes me immediately as different to me. Maybe it really is as simple as having more experiences; I've lived on my own, I've worked, I've become more independent. Isn't that the main idea of being an adult? Not some fundamental difference that you feel when a switch flips as you turn a certain age, but slowly collecting more and more experiences as you remain the same at the core. Maybe I'll feel the same way looking back at 22-year-olds and remembering myself at this age in a few years, realising how silly the way I think now was.

And honestly? Thank fucking God I'm not 17. I was miserable. You couldn't pay me to go back in time, no matter how often I worry about time slipping through my fingers. Even if I didn't realise as I was changing I am a completely different person, I feel and think differently, but the pieces of my younger self are still within me. Maybe I'll write about how I just returned to all my interests from middle school another time.

For now, thank you for reading my maybe pointless rambling. This is the second post here so I already consider this blog a success! Look, I don't abandon everything I start!