I feel old lately. Okay, not like senile, ‘I’ll be popping my clogs soon’ old, but I don’t exactly feel young and carefree any more – not like I used to, anyway. When I was younger I used to do rash and reckless things because ‘who cares, I’m young, I have my whole life ahead of me’ and all that. I’ve loved being 22; in fact, I wish I could be 22 forever. It’s probably been my favourite age, because it’s been one of the only times in my life in which I’ve been fully independent.
But, I’m approaching 23, and I have this fear creeping up on me. I just don’t want to be 23. I feel like it’s an age that you’re meant to have your life together, or at least half-together. And I don’t think I have my life together at all. In fact, it’s probably a long way off until I actually do. But then again, does anyone actually have their shit together? I guess not, but all I know right now is that I’m approaching my mid-20’s and it scares the shit out of me. I often get told that I’m quite a ‘young’ 22, but at the minute it doesn’t really feel like it. I’ve noticed a lot of little things lately that have made me stop and go, ‘When did I get so ancient?’
Here are the pathetic things that have made me realize I’m not 18 anymore.
I lost sleep the other night because I was paranoid about having gum disease.
Bit of a weird’un, I know, but this genuinely, actually happened a couple of nights ago. I haven’t been to the dentist since I was about 17, which is terrible, I know. When I was younger and galavanting around doing God knows what, I just sort of neglected my teeth. I smoked, didn’t floss, and ate & drank a concoction of sugary stuff. I was also notorious for ‘forgetting’ to brush my teeth before I went to bed, and this was most nights. It was only about a week ago that ‘the fear’ crept up on me about my teeth. I noticed that I have receding gums (an early sign of gum disease) and it’s bloody terrified me.
One week later and I’m finally on the prowl for a dentist in Sheffield (who knew it was so difficult to find ones accepting NHS patients?), I floss like a mad woman, and I’ve compared electric toothbrushes like my life depends on it. I’m aware that this combination probably makes me look like an absolute loser – in fact, it definitely makes me look like an absolute loser. But I’m on a mission to save me nashers before I’m on one of them ‘gum disease is the leading cause of tooth loss’ adverts. Trust me, ladz, just because you’re young, it doesn’t mean you won’t pay the price in a couple of years. Drinking Blue WKD’s all night and going to bed without brushing will, in fact, catch up with you.
I prefer Netflix to nights out.
I’m partial to a good night out and most of the time I won’t say no, but bloody hell, I just can’t be arsed lately. Laying in bed watching period dramas and documentaries on Netflix has actually become much more appealing than standing in the rain for an hour to pay a fiver to get into a shit club, only to have not-that-good of a time. I mean, if I’m in the right mood, don’t get me wrong – I’ll stay out all night and have a whale of a time, but a lot of the time it’s hard to catch me in that sort of mood. Sometimes it’s nice to just be lazy. There’s nothing better than having a hot shower, putting on your best PJ’s, making yourself a cuppa, and retreating to your bed to watch the delight that is Benedict Cumberbatch in Sherlock.
I’ve become such a home girl.
If you’d have told me 4 years ago that there’d be a very long time in which I didn’t actually go abroad and just went from Sheffield to Grimsby and back, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. I used to go on holiday and start planning my next one as soon as I got back, but nowadays I’m happy to just stay in Sheffield and that’s quite worrying. I love visiting my family in Grimsby, too – I constantly miss my cat and my comfy bed, so the fact I only live an hour away from my hometown is actually pretty decent, as I can make visiting home a fairly regular thing. To be fair, for someone who writes travel articles, I probably need to get my shit together when it comes to visiting new places. How can I be a travel writer if I don’t actually go anywhere? Well, it’s Easter in a couple of weeks, so I guess I’ll have to drag myself out of watching Netflix in bed and go somewhere, or summat.
I’m picky. Very picky.
There comes a time in life where you just don’t have time for the whole pointless, one-night, “so, uh, what are we?” thing. I can’t be arsed with it all. Meeting a lad on a night out and having a cheeky kiss has become a bit of a rarity for me. I think if you go on a date and there’s actually a connection there and you can see it going somewhere – that’s fair enough, but why waste time with someone you can’t see any real future with? Dating these days has become way too casual for my liking. I’m traditional and a bit old-fashioned, and I’m at the age now where I’d rather just stay single and independent instead of having meaningless flings. I’m also shameless for comparing to my exes – I suppose that’s what happens when you’ve got a couple of failed serious relationships under your belt. Basically, unless there’s actually a real spark there (or if Benedict Cumberbatch came along and whisked me away) I’m not really that bothered. I’m practically a bitter old woman when it comes to love.
There’s a thousand other things that happen on a daily basis that serve as a harrowing reminder that I’m not a teenager anymore, but writing them all down would take all day. I’d love to hear if any of you 20-somethings can relate to this post, and it’d be cool to get some other perspectives too!