“When will you grow up, and behave like an adult person?!”, a woman asked.
I looked up, and around. We were the only two persons in the bus, except of the driver, so she must have talked to me. I looked at myself: tight jeans, pink boots, pink handbag, purple coat, bed (TM) hair… No, I guess I did not look like 28-going-on-29. But does the way you look – what you decide to wear – define your adulthood?
Adulthood is a state of mind, I guess. I have a man, a house, financial independence… However, I have no job, no car, no suit. I have loving friends, proud (grand)parents and a baby-sit kid. Yet, I party every weekend, when there’s a party. I have snowball fights, when there’s snow. I am figuring myself out, still wondering who I really am. I am an adult, and sometimes behave like one yet I am still growing (up).
I was about to answer the woman, when a girl emerged from behind a seat. Sixteen, torn jeans, pink eye shadow, pink nails, funky hair.”Never!”, she said determined and stuck out her tongue. The women sighed. I smiled and stuck out my tongue – well, in my mind, at least.