Time is a social construct. In a civilisation that did not look down at their wrist to tell the time from their watch or have an app that told them what the precise hours and minutes past it was in a country that was not their own, they decided what time was. In Great Britain, becoming an adult is a rite of passage at the grand old age of 18 and it is then that you can start to earn a decent wage but at the same time, have to pay adult prices.
In precisely 138 days, I can no longer call myself a child but will still be treated by teachers and my parents as one. Of course, 18 is not old in the grand scheme of things and I will still have months left of school, being unable to fend for myself in the big bad world outside. I am still young and most certainly feel like it, but already this post is sounding rather depressing and that was never my intention.
Growing up is always considered to be a natural progression of life but I find there are certain moments that you realise that you have to grow up and are pushed into it rather than gliding at a gentle pace. I may be 18 in 138 days but I can still act immature and wish nothing more than to be able to have a happy meal at McDonalds so I can have the toy.
In the last month I am not ashamed to admit that I have found school hard, whether it be the sheer amount of work or the pettiness of arguing with friends. One day I am going to have a full time job and things like coursework and awkward conversations are going to be of little concern. However, I understand that right now the problems we face are the problems we have to deal with and people that say they don’t matter are clearly having a breeze. Because it is our last year of Sixth Form, many people say that they wish time would hurry up and they are ready to start their future, but are they really? If we were meant to go to University at the age of 17, that would be how the system works, we need to complete one level before we can even think about conquering the next.
When I was younger, my mother used to say that I wished my life away and I do think there is a fine line between looking forward to the future and simply wishing you were in it. Even though time is a social construct and some people argue that it doesn’t actually exist, to a certain extent it does. Time passes and time moves forward, we cannot go back, in the same way we cannot stay where we are.
Growing up does not necessarily have a correlation with time because in a single moment, you may need to grow up out of your own doing. I am a big fan of anecdotes and a particular one that my previous English teacher told me, really resonated: when she was a young girl with younger siblings, herself, her mother, and her siblings visited her Grandad’s house. When they arrived, no one was answering the door so her mother told her to climb into the house through an open window to check if her Grandad was in, but unfortunately she found that he had passed away in his sleep and while her mum was calling the ambulance, she had to console her brother and sister. That was the first time she had ever experienced death and it was the first time she couldn’t flood with emotion because there were other people she had to look after and protect, so in that moment, she had to grow up. It may be a simple story but I think it accurately depicts how important certain moments are for an individual and I think many can relate.
I did not intend for this post to involve death, the meaning of time and deep sentiment but sometimes your fingers just type away…
Emily Simms: 20:01