When Mother Was My Age…

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When Mother was my age she had two children in school, a house, a job and an only slightly irritating cat. And what do I have to show for myself?

As a child we have many expectations for ourselves as ‘adults’ that we realise now are completely unrealistic. In part because, being an adult doesn’t come hand in hand with having the answers and in part because… adulting – what?

Instead of making myself feel like I have failed my twenties, I am choosing to revel in the glory of my youth and embrace my current short comings.

No, I don’t have a mortgage, but I do have a coat for every possible weather condition. 

I am not married and I do not have children but I have spent two and a half years backpacking, so when the time comes my kids will be cultured AF. 

No, I didn’t finish university, but #streetsmarts.

I eat my nail varnish so I don’t have to remove it… 

I didn’t leave the house this weekend, but I did re-watch 4 seasons of Girls and feel as though I could successfully navigate my way around Brooklyn despite the fact that I have never been.

I own a Clarisonic and have the full Liz Earle skincare collection yet I still use facewipes on an almost daily basis.

Do I read the Daily Mail? Yes, but only for the showbiz section. Okay, and the news. Yes, and Femail. 

Yes, I do feel a sense of achievement from swerving the TV license fee for the best part of 2 years, did I shit myself when they knocked on my door..? Also yes.

I buy chocolates as gifts, eat them all and then replace before Boyfriend notices, discarding the evidence in a box within a box at the bottom of the bin.

I pay money into a savings account every month without fail, sometimes it even stays in there. 

Am I proud of the above? No. But, in the words of Catherine Tate, am I bothered? Not really. I have the next 40 years to act like a mature adult, so in the meantime, I’ll be here making poor decisions, experimenting with bold lip colours and getting shit tattoos – something that Mother never had the opportunity to do.

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5 thoughts on “When Mother Was My Age…

  1. meetmeinnevada says:

    When my mother was my age, she was pregnant with me, attending college and close to finishing her degree and living in another city from her mother. I’m in my fifth year of school, graduation nowhere near in sight, I have no intention of having kids anytime soon and I’m currently just moved back in with my mom. Lol. Life’s like that sometimes. Since my mom was pregnant with me, she didn’t get to enjoy her twenties like I get to.

  2. Only in Dreams. says:

    Great post! Makes me feel better for being a 22 year old child. I read an interesting article about us millenials and our tenddency towards extended adolescence. It seemed rather bleak at first but we have no real way of projecting the future (how the hell did Trump happen?) so I’m not too worried. Changing times is scary and scary can seem bad until you realise that change is necessary for growth. We’re all youngsters at heart trying to adult and for that you know that at least you’re not alone 😊

  3. JustAGirlAndABike says:

    Lovely post!!! Don’t EVER stop being ‘a kid’….even when you DO get into your 40s. I am totally unashamed that I still love 80s neon clothing and dance parties (even when it is just me dancing).

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