The Story of my realisation that I am technically 'An Adult', and my reflection upon this matter.
As far as I am concerned I will always be a child. I have got a terrible, self diagnosed case of Peter Pan Syndrome. 'I want always to be a boy and have fun.' I have no intention to let my inner child die out. I want forever to read my books in blanket forts and have my sandwiches cut into triangles.
This is a story about realisation and reality. The story begins in January of this year, when the school my Mother teaches at took a trip to see Peter Pan, the annual pantomime at Milton Keynes Theatre. As it is a relatively small school I often get asked to help out at school trips.
Upon my arrival I was greeted by a large number of children. The girls complimented my oversized fur coat: 'You're so snuggly.' 'You remind me of a bear.' 'You are very fluffy!' (one even asked me why I was wearing my dressing gown) and proudly boasted to each other that: 'I know who she is.' 'I know her.' 'She's Mrs Steele's daughter you know.' I would be lying if I told you I wasn't feeling warm and ever so slightly flattered by the attention of these very endearing and very tiny human beings.
After the initial rush of excitement a small boy walked over to me. I didn't recognise him but he looked at me inquisitively, as if he had seen my face before. He tugged on the bottom of my fur coat and asked boldly: 'Excuse me, are you Olivia's mummy?'
The small boy will probably never realise the impact that his innocent question has had upon my life. But I can tell you, it was colossal. This was the very moment I realised that by physicality, I am an adult.
My internal reaction was defensive. My heart was screaming: 'No, no, no, I am a child.'
Was I in denial? No! I mean, psssshht, I still eat chicken nuggets and smiley faces for dinner on a regular basis! All of the pyjamas I own are disney themed! My favourite film is Elf!!!! How could I be an adult?
But it all came pouring down at once, a raincloud of realisation. Some of these children were born in 2010. I was born two decades earlier. They are part of a different generation. They think I'm old enough to be Olivia's mummy. Actually, I am old enough to be Olivia's mummy.
I didn't mean to, I didn't want to, I didn't ask for this but I think, Oh God no, I think I might be,
I'm growing up. And how awful that this realisation would occur upon the occasion of seeing Peter Pan.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about my status as adult ever since. I have come to the conclusion that I am merely a baby of the adult world or as I like to refer to myself: 'An Overgrown Child.' Although I am sticking with the term child, I am a child of the adult world. And that is important.
I have identified that I know very little about anything. Academically, I am the baby of the UCL English department. I have read hardly any literature and am a terrible reader. I have potential but in reality my experience limits me. I'm also the baby of life. In the same way that I haven't read many books, I haven't lived very much. I've spent 19 years in the same town with the same people, going to the same school and studying the same subjects. I haven't travelled wide enough, communicated with enough strangers, done enough food shops or caught enough busses. I haven't seen enough sunsets or completed enough crosswords. I know nearly nothing. My opinions are underdeveloped and I am undereducated. Most 19 year olds are screaming out opinions on twitter with a confidence that they're knowledgable and correct about everything. But I'm not knowledgable. My knowledge goes as far as 3 A levels and a semi-serious relationship. I am literally, an overgrown child.
I thought I never wanted to grow up. But I have realised that growing up does not simply mean wearing a trouser suit, paying taxes and working in an office. I have vowed that I will never work a boring 9-5 or eat Fish and Chips every Friday. I may not want to grow into societies typical adult, but I do want to grow.
I want to open my mind and drink in knowledge and understanding of the world. I want to become a fully formed person instead of an over-formed child. I want to wake up in the back of trucks looking at views of mountain ranges with no idea of the time and just swallow the experience. I want to be shaped, and reshaped and broken and fixed so many times that I become more.
I want to think of my soul as a patchwork blanket that simply grows more colourful and beautiful with experience.
I plan to stay youthful, whilst growing wise.
This is a story about realisation and reality. The story begins in January of this year, when the school my Mother teaches at took a trip to see Peter Pan, the annual pantomime at Milton Keynes Theatre. As it is a relatively small school I often get asked to help out at school trips.
Upon my arrival I was greeted by a large number of children. The girls complimented my oversized fur coat: 'You're so snuggly.' 'You remind me of a bear.' 'You are very fluffy!' (one even asked me why I was wearing my dressing gown) and proudly boasted to each other that: 'I know who she is.' 'I know her.' 'She's Mrs Steele's daughter you know.' I would be lying if I told you I wasn't feeling warm and ever so slightly flattered by the attention of these very endearing and very tiny human beings.
After the initial rush of excitement a small boy walked over to me. I didn't recognise him but he looked at me inquisitively, as if he had seen my face before. He tugged on the bottom of my fur coat and asked boldly: 'Excuse me, are you Olivia's mummy?'
The small boy will probably never realise the impact that his innocent question has had upon my life. But I can tell you, it was colossal. This was the very moment I realised that by physicality, I am an adult.
My internal reaction was defensive. My heart was screaming: 'No, no, no, I am a child.'
Was I in denial? No! I mean, psssshht, I still eat chicken nuggets and smiley faces for dinner on a regular basis! All of the pyjamas I own are disney themed! My favourite film is Elf!!!! How could I be an adult?
But it all came pouring down at once, a raincloud of realisation. Some of these children were born in 2010. I was born two decades earlier. They are part of a different generation. They think I'm old enough to be Olivia's mummy. Actually, I am old enough to be Olivia's mummy.
I didn't mean to, I didn't want to, I didn't ask for this but I think, Oh God no, I think I might be,
I'm growing up. And how awful that this realisation would occur upon the occasion of seeing Peter Pan.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about my status as adult ever since. I have come to the conclusion that I am merely a baby of the adult world or as I like to refer to myself: 'An Overgrown Child.' Although I am sticking with the term child, I am a child of the adult world. And that is important.
I have identified that I know very little about anything. Academically, I am the baby of the UCL English department. I have read hardly any literature and am a terrible reader. I have potential but in reality my experience limits me. I'm also the baby of life. In the same way that I haven't read many books, I haven't lived very much. I've spent 19 years in the same town with the same people, going to the same school and studying the same subjects. I haven't travelled wide enough, communicated with enough strangers, done enough food shops or caught enough busses. I haven't seen enough sunsets or completed enough crosswords. I know nearly nothing. My opinions are underdeveloped and I am undereducated. Most 19 year olds are screaming out opinions on twitter with a confidence that they're knowledgable and correct about everything. But I'm not knowledgable. My knowledge goes as far as 3 A levels and a semi-serious relationship. I am literally, an overgrown child.
I thought I never wanted to grow up. But I have realised that growing up does not simply mean wearing a trouser suit, paying taxes and working in an office. I have vowed that I will never work a boring 9-5 or eat Fish and Chips every Friday. I may not want to grow into societies typical adult, but I do want to grow.
I want to open my mind and drink in knowledge and understanding of the world. I want to become a fully formed person instead of an over-formed child. I want to wake up in the back of trucks looking at views of mountain ranges with no idea of the time and just swallow the experience. I want to be shaped, and reshaped and broken and fixed so many times that I become more.
I want to think of my soul as a patchwork blanket that simply grows more colourful and beautiful with experience.
I plan to stay youthful, whilst growing wise.
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