I could never picture myself as someone older when I was a kid. I could never see myself as something more than the girl who looked back at me in the mirror. I was always the age that I was at the time. I could never picture the 18 year old version of myself, and now that I’m 18, I can’t picture the 25 year old version of myself. I imagined what I could as a child. I assumed that all 16 year olds looked like something out of a Disney Channel original movie, and that I would maintain the same innocence that they had. I would maintain a level of childishness that went along with those same plots in those movies.

It sounds obnoxious to say, but I think adulthood is overrated and adults are boring. Of course this is a generalization, but I understand why kids get so frustrated with them; I still do to this day. The constant need for logic and solid thought gets old pretty fast (haven’t any of you ever heard of imagination?). At ten years old, girls and boys alike dreamt of becoming the older, freer versions of who they were. They would have cars, party with their friends, and would explore the world that had been denied to them due to either small stature or age. But, what nobody told us is that adulthood is full of trials and tribulations that change the very material we are made of. You wanna know what all girls across the planet remember? First blood. That’s right, the sudden and unwanted drawing of the first drop told us one thing: bye-bye diaperless days. You feel shackled to the world of femininity that you never asked for. You thought that growing up was wearing your mom’s makeup or playing spin the bottle, so why the hell do you suddenly have to wear a bra under every article of clothing you own? Welcome to adulthood, ladies, soon everyone will know that you’re a ‘woman’ now.

Boys, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. Masculinity is thrown on you like an over sized, hairy, sweaty monster that I guarantee you resented for a while. Yeah, sure, it was cool thinking that you might be able to shave the massive amounts of facial hair you would acquire (aka the patchy mess that grew out on your upper lip), but I doubt you looked forward to your voice cracking in class every time the teacher asked you to read aloud. I genuinely felt pity for all the boys who faced the dilemmas that came with growing up. You were either too old looking (full grown beard, 6’2, with a deep bass in the sixth grade) or you still looked like a third grader. Though, girls still one-upped you with the whole period thing (sorry, but until you’ve experienced a bleed through or ruined most of your underwear and pants, there is no contest), I’m aware that surprise boners were a thing for you guys. Unwanted, unwarranted pop-ups that couldn’t be suppressed; I’m wholeheartedly sorry if you ever had to give a presentation or stand up in front of the class with a binder or textbook in front of your crotch.

As if the physical growing up part isn’t enough, it’s like you hit a second wave of puberty whenever you enter your late teens or early twenties. Physically, you’re pretty much done growing, but mentally? Mentally you’re a wreck with what feels like the responsibility of someone running a massive corporation. Thrown kicking and screaming into the abyss of learning how to balance college level work, friendships, and just trying to figure out when the next time you’ll eat is; this is not for the faint of heart, I’ll tell you that. You feel like suddenly the weight of the world is on your shoulders and no one quite understands the sheer dread you feel as you try to figure out who you are and what you want.

I am in fact, absolutely dreading the idea of becoming a real life adult; someone who is responsible for her own fate and will have to answer to the choices she makes. My mom won’t always be able to schedule my appointments or buy my favorite snacks, but for the time being, I’m going to enjoy being a kid. 18 might technically be considered an adult by society’s standards, but I’ll be the first one to admit that I don’t know jack about anything that requires someone to be self sufficient except for maybe using kitchenware or doing my own laundry. I need my parents and I need support from those around me; I’ll never con myself into thinking that I can be on my own at this point in my life. I’m such a flawed and immature person, as are most college kids. This is the point where we grow the most mentally and emotionally, therefore, I’ve taken it upon myself to relish in being a child. Forget getting older; 10 is the new 20.