Growing up is hard to do...

Codie Young by Nicole Bentley for
Vogue Australia April 2011
(from fashiongonerogue.com)

I've always felt quite old of heart - at 12, I was sure I was as mature as I ever needed to be. And sure, I read newspapers every day when I was 11, went to Thailand for a month on a summercamp without my parents, and in many ways felt more at ease when talking to adults than people my own age - but of course, I was still a child. And once in a while the last couple of years, I've noticed just how much I've grown since last I checked; not measured by my political interest, my independence, since that's really always been there - no, by how much more comfortable I feel in my own skin.

Last week, I read through my personal statement from last autumn, when I was applying to British universities - realising how much I've grown. I wrote about aesthetics in business management, and even though the essence of what I wrote still holds, I would probably have expressed myself a bit differently if I'd written it now. Having received a bit more experience with the actual experience of 'management' when we did the play was a very important part of me growing since last fall - and if I'd written my PS now, I would probably have been able to write thing which were slightly less commonplace ..

I've never really idolised neither childhood nor youth - rather, I've always been busy growing up, annoyed whenever there was something I couldn't do because I was too young, unappreciative of the advantages that comes with the rest of the world regarding you as somewhat of a child. I spoke to a friend about this, and she told me her ideal age was 17 - old enough for people to respect your opinion, too young to have to deal with the full responsibilities of adulthood. For me, it was in a way opposite; ever since I was 5 or something, my ideal age was 19 years old; old enough to not be limited by age in any way (at least by the laws of Denmark), young enough to, well, still be young. 

         But recently, I've begun realising some stuff about childhood that I will miss - or at least that I'm perhaps not as busy growing up as I used to be. Today, I have a total of 10 school days left at Nørre G - then exams start, and then we'll be done. Although being finished is an exciting thought, it is also terrifying to move away from something you know is good - for what if what comes next somehow isn't as good? I guess this worries me especially since I'm hoping to move to St Andrews where I most likely won't know anyone - it wouldn't be as rapid a change if I stayed in Copenhagen. I also realised Monday that I've never actually contemplated not moving away from home - a classmate asked me a question about accomodation if you went to Copenhagen University, and I helped her figure it out. In the process, I saw some different student housing, and started looking them through, comparing location, prices etc - realising after 10 minutes that I could actually just keep living at home. Which scared me - that it hadn't entered my mind before. And suddenly, I felt like the whole process of growing up was happening just a bit too fast.