Throughout our lives we go through many identities. I have been a drama geek, a musician, a tomboy, a feminist, a waitress, a makeup artist (I know!), a student, a blogger and many more diverse and even worse occupations that we shall not delve into outside of therapy. If you give yourself about five seconds you can already identify yourself as at least eight people in the course of only a year. We put on these personalities and shed them as and when they suit us, and at a moment’s notice.
This doesn’t mean that we are unoriginal pretenders. Everyone goes through different stages of life and we should support each other with each one. It can, however, be fairly scary. With my third and final year of uni about to begin I’m entering into a new stage of life, and with that, a new identity. I’m moving in with Adam, my very lovely, very Welsh boyfriend which makes me massively question my levels of maturity. This seems like something grown-up people do. I do not identify with being grown-up. Age to me seems very subjective. When one person is rocking around in dungarees and some funky double-buns at twenty-six, another person is setting up a multi-dimensional media company while wearing a pant-suit. Neither resemble the same stage of life and, yet, they are still technically the same. Nothing is wrong with either but you would probably place one above the other in maturity levels. If you asked my dungarees guru if she considered herself a grown-up she would probably say an emphatic ‘no!’ while the other would say ‘I was born to wear elegantly tailored suits!’. Incidentally, I see this as an essential characterisation of my relationship with my friend Becs, who y’all know from other posts like ‘Taken By Texas‘. While I am still attempting to work out exactly how to blow-dry my hair, Becca wears aviators with a level of ‘resting bitch face’ and an air of cool mastery that’s rarely seen off Instagram.
While I wouldn’t say I’m an immature person (I have been buying my own dungarees for years thankyouverymuch!) this is definitely a big exciting step towards a new and unknown facet of the human experience. While I don’t think it makes a new title for my identity (I’m not ‘the girl who lives with her boyfriend’ in the same way I doubt Adam is called ‘the boy who lives with his girlfriend) it does lead me to ask ‘am I grown-up now?’. I doubt it. I think other elements of my personality (my need to continuously sing musicals and continued dependance on ‘Harry Potter’ as my moral compass in nearly all situations) anchor me solidly on the spectrum of ‘not quite there yet’. Maybe I will age with grace and one day achieve some level of elegance and class, maybe I will spend the rest of my life experimenting with neon eye shadow. Only time will tell.