Today I say goodbye to my twenties.

This is not a thing that bothers me. I mean, I’ve had the occasional ‘Oh gosh, 30 sounds like a proper grown up age. Shouldn’t I have *enter-generic-age-related-expectation-here* before they let me turn 30?’ moments, but generally I’m ok with this particular milestone.

But even though turning 30 doesn’t bother me, it’s still a little weird. It does sound like a grown up age and, although I’ve definitely ticked lots of ‘grown up’ boxes – like, say, buying a house, getting married, teaching young’uns that they can’t avoid using a capital G just because they don’t like how it looks etc. – there are many, MANY, moments (read: days, weeks, months) when I feel decidedly un-grownup. Moments when I instinctively look for an adult to take charge. Then, when I realise that’s me, I continue to look for an adult – an adultier adult. Because, in spite of my own experience and demonstrable competence in many real life situations, I do not feel like I should be left in charge of…well…myself. Or anything really.

Being an adult is HARD. There are so many shoulds and musts. So much that has to be done and then so much more that you feel your really ought to do. From little things like putting the bins out to big things like realising that when there’s water pouring into your house at 3am, if YOU don’t find an emergency plumber to fix it then eventually you’re going to need an ark.

I often miss the lack of responsibility that came with being a teenager: no bills to pay; someone else keeping my house tidy and putting food on my table (thanks parents!); lots of free time to read books and binge watch TV shows; college days that didn’t start until 10am – bliss! But, for all that, I wouldn’t be a teenager again if you paid me. Life has become better with every year and, although I’m sad to see my twenties go, I fully anticipate the trend of improvement to continue in my thirties.

I’m excited for the possibilities that lie ahead. I’m looking forward to growing up.

I’m also starting to wonder if anyone ever feels like an adult? Or is adulthood’s best kept secret that everyone is actually panicking on the inside that they are not, in fact, grown up enough to be an adult? Is everyone constantly looking for an adultier adult than them?

Do we ever really grow up?