Emerging into the world of the mid 20s, it becomes apparent that society begins to demand certain expectations of you. By 22 you are expected to be working, thinking of the future, predominantly independent and fairly mature.
The first signs of wrinkles and grey hair prop up, responsibility kicks in and that fun loving free child begins to disappear in your reflection; leaving a moody, moaning sceptic on the way to middle age.
Once you recognise the inevitable, certain traits of your personality begin to change and the dream of becoming a famous actor and pissing off to Hollywood becomes a reality - so the day job is kept.
Suddenly, make-up begins to rival the amount of a circus clown, culminating in hours spent in the bathroom: cleansing, toning and moisturising – whilst exfoliating every millimetre of dead skin on your body.
Exercising becomes a daily routine; leading to fatigue that is often confused with alleged old age.
If allowed, the looming thought of aging begins to settle in your mind and depression begins to seep inwards, leading to heavy drinking, chain smoking and nights out on the pull – straight after Tuesday night’s Eastenders.
While life seemingly explodes its way down the fast lane and childhood reluctantly becomes a distant memory, you then wake up one morning realising that all priorities have changed.
Give it another six months and the 19 year old ‘toyboy’ has emerged, a symbol of a life not long left behind.
He’s fun, energetic and hasn’t been screwed around much, meaning that he hasn’t matured into the player that you dated a year ago. Apparently this kind of behaviour is more popular with the over 25s, who can’t get a girl their own age, so they prey on the ones susceptible to mind fucks – learnt from their previous ‘loves’.
Women are constantly reminded early on that time is running out, so I guess in some ways the long term relationship is good on paper.
Of course the overly enthusiastic boyfriend may often forget that you’re ‘old’ now and not a machine.
Having responsibility, is like the bipolar of the 20 something’s... that’s how they act anything. Moaning about this that and the other, because they don’t get as many birthday presents, have to pay taxes and don’t have their arse wiped for them anymore. At the same time, loving their sense of freedom, their car and the sacred all important credit card.
Yes, everyone that literally is the symbol of maturity – debt. According to society anyway!
Growing up also means realising that there are important choices ahead, do you take that dead end job or go at it alone? Can you even work for the man? When is the right time to move out? Do I need the new BlackBerry Touch? Would a subscription to Glamour really benefit my life?
In a lot of ways, 20 something’s are just teenagers with better salaries and a car, no wonder the world is going to hell!!!
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