Posted in Experiences, memories, Writing

How it feels to be 18

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So, when someone peculiarly asked me, “How old do you feel?” .
I felt that it varies. Mentally, I feel between 11 and 18. It’s a bit scary, because there’s always the risk that I might be found out. Someone might realize that I’m not a proper grown up and misinterpret me  as childish for all that I do with sheer maturity.
Physically, it varies too. If I’m well and the sun’s shining, then I feel 16 while I feel 23 otherwise.
I doubt many people over 40 feel as old as they look. For most of us, the face in the mirror is the painting in the attic. When I haven’t been in front of my reflection for a while, I forget what my age looks like. The face I imagine I’m peering out from behind is few years younger than the one I catch sight of when my computer screen suddenly goes dark.
So, before my 18th birthday, one of my friends told me, “Damn, you’re gonna be 18 now. I’m yet to be.” I was amazed to  this statement and asked her,” Why is it special to be 18? Age is just a number!” She said,” You’ll realize that soon when everyone will wish you happy birthday and gift you presents. The morning will have make you travel farther than the horizon, the sun will shine slightly more bright and life will be anew.  You will feel free, like all the existing barriers have been removed away. You will no more have to convince your parents for going on road trips with friends.”
(Months later, on my 18th birthday)
As I woke up, everything was the same. My parents and friends wished me in a similar way except that they were more excited about my birthday than I was and that they brought me really amazing presents. Otherwise, the sun shone in the same manner it did the previous day. Neither did I travel farther than the horizons nor did I feel free but the most unsure I had ever been of myself. The 18th year of my being began with wishes which were uncertainly followed by questions related to my career choices, religious beliefs, marriage choices and etc. (End of thinking capacity, no really.) I felt  of my own appearance, accent, skills and every piece of my being. It hurt.  I felt really betrayed as I didn’t feel a single emotion that people claimed that I will experience when I turn 18.
Initially, when I was small. Not that I’m old now. Just. Often, when I argued on something with people older to me, my perspective was looked down upon and I was told to speak up when I turn an adult, (that is turn 18) but now that I’ve turned 18, things are still the same. I have aged in some portions of my being however I still love candies. My perspectives have surely altered but they still consist of most decisions taken by the heart and the instincts. Though, I’ve realized one thing as I’ve grown up (a bit yeah, not much.) , “Life isn’t going to give you anything for free anymore. Life isn’t going to hold your hand either.” 


However, the feeling of turning 18 continues to remain abstract. 
But tell me, How old do you feel? 

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