I always grew up believing that there’d be this moment or this phase where I’d acknowledge that I’d morphed into an adult.
A bit like a Pokemon evolving, y’know?
And, as time passes and 30 looms on the horizon (wtf bae, get back in the very, very distant future along with back ache and pensions and rocking chairs), I’ve kinda of realised that you don’t wake up one day like hmm, might get myself some herringbone slippers and start looking at the birds in the garden.
WOAH IS THAT A ROBIN AND A MAGPIE AND OMG WHAT’S THAT ONE OVER THERE.
Might have to make a cup of tea and have a bit of shortbread to help me calm the fuck down.
It’s been the fleeting moments etched into normal days that have made me realise that I’ve made it, that I have arrived, in one (albeit slightly crumbly) piece to the world of adulthood.
That I am no longer still a Johnson’s gradual tan coated-teenager trapped in an adult’s body, desperately trying to not let her new boyfriend see her slobbery retainer whilst cramming misspelt CVs into every cafe within a 10 mile radius.
(Lol to not being that girl anymore, bless her cute little lacy padded bras).
So, erm yeah. Banks, lock up your ISA accounts, Hannah’s an adult and she don’t care who knows it.
(Spoiler: I’m not getting an ISA).
It seems that the older you get, the quicker the years seem to pass and the more time seems to whirr by in a blur of birthdays, Christmas and oh good, summer lasted 4 days this year, jolly ho.
And because of that, that I think you’ll always feel like a bit of a fraud.
Because you haven’t noticed yourself mature and learn and grow because time’s spun past so damn quickly.
Like erm no, you can’t possibly employ me for this senior role you see because I’m actually still a child who likes Harry Potter and chocolate pudding deep down.
Or no, I couldn’t get married or have a baby because lol I sometimes still think about building dens when it’s rainy outside and I’m bored.
Y’know that feeling?
I think we’re all constantly lost in that feeling. Seeing someone in the mirror who looks older than the youthful little poppet we feel inside.
The point of this post was actually to talk about Thanksgiving, but I appear to have gone wildly off topic. My bad.
I wanted to write a post about laying up the table with AN ACTUAL TABLECLOTH WHAT THE EVEN FLIP, and about drinking good quality red wine and Advocaat because apparently I’m a 45-year-old in the 1970s, and about cooking a chicken and buttermilk mash and veggies. About making pastry from scratch and puree-ing a pumpkin. About having couple friends round and telling stories and jokes and discussing the things we’re thankful for.
But in all of that, the thing that stood out most for me was the theme of adulthood shining through the entire evening loud and proud.
The fact that even a Hannah from two or three years ago would be like woah babe, you got old.
But even that girl, with her Tinder app and her constant hungover haze and her mild weekly breakdowns because OMG LONDON SO LONELY, SO TIRED, SO WAH, would be secretly envious.
She’d Lol at me now because hang on, hang on, you spent £6 on table decorations rather than another bottle of wine? But she’d also be mentally fist-pumping herself for getting there.
On Thursday evening there was a moment, one of those fleeting moments I mentioned before, the ones etched into the ordinary, where I thought, this is it, I’m here. I’m an adult and it’s OK and it’d good and I can’t wait to see what else adulthood brings with it.
Like, somehow, in that moment I had upped my adulthood game from the phase of adulthood that had come before.
Adulthood, adulthood, adulthood. I’m not sure I’ve said it enough.
I was wearing an apron over a long-sleeved midi dress whilst I topped up my wine and joined in discussions about homes and mortgages and life plans.
WHO EVEN AM I.
So yeah, in that moment, I felt a little warmth spread through my tummy and bones (probs the wine tbh) and accepted that I’d taken another little step further in the journey that is life.
Like I’d had another go at rolling the spinner on Game Of Life and had just got a little further up the game board.
And I liked it.
So here’s a little cheers to getting older, maturing, learning, feeling wiser and happier, and to being content.
Life is awkward and weird and you’ll always feel a little bit like heeeeeelp me, I’m still a child deep down under all the layers of adulthood fat, but it’s pretty damn sweet too.
Here’s to all the opportunities and adventures the next chapters of grown-up-ness brings.
(I’m off to drink more fancy wine and feel a bit more pleased with myself. See ya).