Am I an Adult or Am I Just Adulting?


Hello, hi, good morning. Or good afternoon, or good… whenever you are reading this. You’ve caught me at a good time and in the middle of an exticentail crisis so yay, go Ellie.

You see I’m having a bit of a crisis of identity.

Woah, okay, calm down drama queen. You’re not on the Jeremy Kyle show and you’re not married to your second cousin

But you see, I’m having an indent it crisis over adulting. Adulthood. Being a grown ass woman and such.

I mean, I can’t be the only one who doesn’t really FEEL like an adult…..

A few years ago I remember being told ‘well that’s it now, you’re officially an adult’ and at the time I remember thinking ‘get in. Ahead of me lies freedom, payslips and being able to order a Mac Donald’s at whatever time I best please.’



Until the harsh reality of what being an adult means cake crashing down. I mean sure, I still order a maccies at 4 in the morning, but the washing, cleaning and budgeting demands kinda outweigh the fun of a nighttime nugget session.

I recently was going through some of my mums old photo albums and came across the album with her, her sisters and her friends weddings (god I loved the 70’s and 80’s fashion and the disgustingly ugly bridesmaid) and the thing that startled me most was how BLOODY YOUNG they all were. 23, 21, 24, 26… no one even dreamed of getting married in their late 20’s never mind their 30’s.

Like wtf.

These days I hear a friend of mine is getting married before 28 and I think WHAT ARE YOU DOING. ARE YOU SURE? WILL YOU BE HAPPY? OMG THATS SO EXCITING. BUT HOW WILL YOU AFFORD IT? YOU’RE JUST SO YOUNG STILL.

You get the gist.



I guess what I am trying to say is why the hell did we consider our parents to be mature adults at the age of 23, but we are not?

Is the age of adulthood slowly trickling later and later?

Or did they feel the same as we feel now?

Kinda mature, kinda responsible but not 100% sure what the hell is going on.

I mean I cook for myself, I clean for myself, I live by myself and I look after myself.

I guess in retrospect I am an adult, but I sure as hell don’t feel like this.

I’m adulting, but I’m not an adult.