By Luce Renauld Frigiotti
How do we become adults?
I’m not sure I have the correct answer to that question, as a matter of fact I’m not even sure there is one. But here are my thoughts. We all know that being an adult is more then just getting old. You don’t become an adult the day you turn 18 or 21. It’s more like a state of mind. It’s the little things, like birthdays for example.
When we were kids birthdays used to be so important and so great. We had this day when we would have amazing presents: all that we wished for, hours of games, playing, eating cakes, partying, spending lovely time with our family and friends. But also the taste of kids drink like Champomy (like a very sweet cider but with no alcohol), the smell of blown candles, the feeling and sound of tearing apart presents paper … When you were a kid, everybody knew it was your birthday, you were the star of the day. And you had this illusion, the kid-vision of the word where everything is joyful and colourful. It turns out to be much more than a celebration of our selfs, it becomes a ritual. But at some point, you almost get used to it : that’s growing up. So yes, birthday joy tend to fade away with time. It might become repetitive, ordinary. Maybe being an adult starts with a disillusion? Even for birthdays.
Growing up is also starting to make up your own mind, questioning everything.
First as a joke like your mom who says ” it should be me who is celebrated, I birthed you, I was the one to suffer for hours “. And then, it hits you. At least it hitted me. When you are younger you celebrate your freedom, like you’re getting closer to your destiny but not quite there yet so it’s just fun. When you start celebrating the 20s, here you are, the decisions that you take (not your parents anymore) are building your path. This is it. So how are you suppose you compete ? On one hand you have the careless joyful memories of a childhood birthday and on another hand the conscious of the surrounding world birthday ! Especially since they’re memories you’ll probably tend to idealize it.
And all theses questions that strike you when you take conscience of the surrounding world you start wondering, who are you to be celebrated ? What have you done so far ? Where was I one year ago ? What have I accomplished in this one symbolic year ? I am happy of who I have become ? I am going towards the right direction ? So many wonderings compared to the innocent naive childhood. Also I think the birthday disillusion comes with the fear of getting old, fear of death really.
But as Marc said, we have to live in the present. But what is present ? Because if we are realistic we can’t only be in the present. Otherwise we would be goldfish. For me present is a little bit of past (who you’ve grown to be) and a little bit of future (what are your life goals). It just has to be balanced. Like everything. So yes I do have some pessimistic thoughts sometimes. But I mean it’s normal, after all birthdays are a way to celebrate your existence, if there is anything more dramatic. Congrats for being alive ! For being who you are ! But who am I ?? So wonder, think, do the annual birthday introspection. Because here I am, writing my scab on my bed, looking at the sunset in London. It could be worst right ?
To conclude I think in a way we’ll never fully be adults. At least I hope I will never be 100% adult. Cause the best adults are the one who keep a part of childhood in their hearts. So I don’t really know if this Scab is an ode to childhood or adulthood, cause I think it’s both.
PS : despite all those thoughts and wonders I had a really happy birthday this year, and it’s partly thanks to SCA so thank you guys 🙂