As of last Saturday I am eighteen years old, and therefore an adult.. isn’t that a terrifying thought? With my little brother and sister starting school for the first time the day before my birthday, I was already feeling a little fragile in the age department, but now I just feel goddamn ancient. I know it’s such a cliché thing to say but it feels like only yesterday that I started secondary school and now I’m finally in my final year, a lot taller, a lot happier, and hopefully at least a little bit wiser. Nevertheless- jokes from mum about how I now have to do my own washing aside- I can’t comprehend the fact that I am now a legal adult and can more or less do whatever I want. In a year’s time I will be moving out (fingers crossed) and having to think about feeding myself and cleaning my own place and paying bills and all those other things that come with being a “responsible adult”.. and that scares me to death.
Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited to finally be eighteen and everything that entails- this birthday has hands down been the best I’ve ever had as I’ve been lucky enough to have spent time with and been spoiled by the people I love the most in the world. I honestly couldn’t have asked for a better start to adult life and I am so grateful. Having friends that are moving out for uni this week has made me long for this time next year when I will hopefully be in the same position; I am so ready to get out of this tiny village in the middle of nowhere and I’m excited for whatever the next few years will bring. Oh, and if you’re wondering why I’ve become so somber and reflective all of a sudden, that’s what adulthood does to you kids. Just you wait.