Growing Pains

What I have come to realise over the past few years is that getting older is actually one of the scariest experiences ever.

I'm not talking about wrinkles, grey hair or the middle aged spread, that I can handle. What I'm struggling to come to terms with is that big scary concept of 'responsibility'.

Back when I was a teenager, I can remember being desperate to get older. Being an adult, going out, having a job, buying nice things, having your own place to live, this all looked impossibly glamorous through my naive eyes.

I just assumed that I would very easily go from school, to college, to university, to the workplace, with total ease. All the time enjoying an extremely active social life, having my pick of an array of suitors, dress impeccably and have the time of my life. Oh how wrong I was.

In reality, it is a hard slog of trying to gain acceptance from yourself and others, trying desperately to get noticed and gain the marks needed to stand out. To constantly have to be 'mature' when all you really want to do is crawl into a hole and never come out. To have to put rent, bills, and 'adult things' before any kind of fun spending.

Then there's choosing a career. You think you've chosen, you think it's right, up until you utter the words 'fashion journalist' only to be met with stifled giggles and looks of confusion. What they fail to tell you is that when you apply for that dream job or amazing internship, there is also another 2000 people doing exactly the same, and chances are they'll have more experience and better grades than you.

Then university finishes, and whilst dealing with the fact that it may be a while before you get that dream job, you have to deal with the unthinkable - tax. What do you mean I have to pay the council to live in this house? Have you seen how much rent I'm paying?! What do you mean you will be taking 20% of my earnings - I worked bank holiday! Getting used to seeing the difference between what is on your payslip and what actually goes into your bank account is extremely difficult indeed.

Then there are your friends. The people you've known since you were dreaming of adulthood are suddenly very different - and so are you. You grow apart, your interests change, you move away. Accepting that you're just different people now is probably one of the hardest lessons of all.

And then there's meeting new people. It's not like school, where there's a class of thirty, so you're bound to find a friend somewhere. It's brutal, some of them don't even want to speak to you! And a boyfriend? That's even harder. Choose a career in a woman dominated industry, and you're doomed. I remember my mother telling me. 'University is where you find your husband.' What a load of bull that is. Then you go into the workplace, and the turnover is even smaller. Where are you supposed to meet this person?!

As a panic-stricken graduate, I am most definitely struggling to cope with the pressure. But much like my adolescent self, I am taking refuge in the faith that one day it will all come together, and I will wake up with an amazing job, my own house, Chace Crawford for a husband and a pug at my feet. But for now, just keep me away from any sharp objects...