I’ve been considering age recently. And whether it’s a ‘relative’ notion, or if there are set rules on when and how things should happen..
I spend far too much of my time planning how I’m going to kit out my kitchen when I (eventually) own my own house. And the other day fought violently with my current lack of funds that prevented me from entering a boutique cookery shop in a local town. (Seriously, I probably would’ve tried to buy the whole place. And my overdraft would so not have thanked me for that..) I knew at the age of 14 that I want a black and white themed bathroom purely so that I can have black towels. And I find painting and decorating walls one of the most relaxing and inspirational activities. As a 19 year old this is ‘abnormal’. According to the picture painted of us by our wonderful British papers, I should be out binge drinking every weekend (if not more often), sleeping with every male that moves, demanding the morning-after pill regularly as I can’t recall the previous night’s antics, and probably at some point in the near future be considering an abortion. If y’know, I haven’t already had one.
It’s sad that this is how my age group is represented.
I wouldn’t exactly say I was a *normal* teenager. Not in the way that the modern generation seems to be anyhow. I had the conventional school uniform, never wore a skirt shorter than regulation – hell never wore a skirt to school – and didn’t try to get away with ‘girly’ shoes. Ever. In fact the one time I did break school rules on the shoe front it was by wearing a pair of battered black converse to my English GCSE exam. (Which I then proceeded to decorate with sharpies during double French) I didn’t wear makeup in day-to-day life until the last term of year 11. And even then it was either clear or, if I felt particularly daring that day, *charcoal* mascara. I’ve never fake tanned, and would rather poke my own eyes out than wear/own/look at anything pink, fluffy and covered in sequins. I disagreed with (and to some extent still do) underage drinking and never properly drank until I was 17. (Yes, I’m aware that was underage. It *was* however after exams and about a month before my 18th. I’m a summer baby, sometimes it sucks being one of the youngest.) I never went to youth club, or dance classes. Didn’t horse ride past the age of 7. And never hated my school for *not* having a cheerleading squad.
To me boys were friends. Someone to sit by in geography (and to help you out, cause really, I have near to no geographical skills) or someone to play Bullshit with during lunch-break. The people you could still be yourself with when the school bitches decided that it was your week on the shitlist, or when you needed to get away from the glitzy-sparkly-princess crap of other teenage girls. They taught me how to throw, I taught them how to use chopsticks. They stopped me setting science labs on fire, I let them pierce their ear with my earring. You know, the usual friendship..
I could pretend that in some way maybe I *was* a normal kid. That maybe today’s teens are just trying to grow up to fast? But then, as true as that may be, I’d be knowingly ignoring the ‘isms’ I seem to be taking with me into adulthood. Anyway, as lovely as it’d be to hear that actually I am the normal one, I kinda enjoy being weird. Different. Outcast. Quirky. Uncool. A ‘loser’ (as I’ve been referred to many a time). Call it what they may, I see it as unique. And that’s alright by me..
Besides, any kid who looked like this is bound to grow up as awesome. Right?