'You're so mature for your age!'
I recently had one of my neighbors — a 40-year-old woman with a husband and child — tell me that I seem extremely mature for my nubile young age of 25.
My first reaction was flattery. I've been called "mature for my age" practically since I've started walking. I'm not sure if this is a natured or nurtured quality, but I see it as a compliment.
Then, (as I am wont to do) I started thinking.
Pondering the root of my maturity
I am not insulted by that comment by any means. Rarely does anyone say that in a negative context.
My kind neighbor was commenting on my stage of life, not necessarily my disposition. To me, I am right where I'm supposed to be for my age. At 18, I graduated high school. At 22, I graduated college. After that, it was always my expectation that I would get my first job and live on my own.
At 25, I have a salaried position that places me firmly in the middle class, no debt (which I acknowledge is abnormal), an apartment to myself, hobbies outside of work and a modestly-sized group of friends. My home is well-furnished — albeit from Facebook Marketplace steals — and I am proactive about health, home and necessity maintenance. I see these all as markers of success thus far.
I also have a relatively tame social calendar. I don't often go out to bars or parties, I don't partake in drugs and drink occasionally. I have no interest in dating at the moment, although I wish I had some sort of companionship.
Am I too boring?
A little insecurity I've held for most of my life is that I'm boring. The teasing-in-school terms for that would be goody two shoes or straight edge. My friends called me the more positive equivalent, the Mom Friend™.
It's never been a debilitating insecurity, and I don't think too much about it, but that compliment from my neighbor made me start worrying (as I am wont to do).
Being 'mature for my age' can create conflict with those my age
It is true that the majority of my friends don't fit in this "mature for your age" group. They have lower paying, less reliable jobs, but their social calendars are booked. (Or at least appear to be. That is a whole different tangent on social media that I could write a separate blog post on.)
I do envy them in many ways. For starters, they are closer with one another because they can hang out more during the traditional 9-to-5 work hours.
There's a lot of tension there, at times. When I work from home, they assume I'm not working. When I complain about my job, they often go quiet, and when they complain about their jobs, it's more difficult for me to relate. They hold more inflammatory and often violent worldviews than I — I'd consider myself pretty far left, but I hold my ideology in tandem with what I think is realistic to achieve within my lifetime. We have different problems in our lives that are due in part to our incomes and work environments.
All things being said...
I'm (mostly) happy. I'm (mostly) healthy. I have a good home, good family, and (mostly) good friends. Even so, I've been lonely.
I might be mature, but lately I've been falling more and more into "less mature" habits. When I get home, I can't make myself do chores around the house, opting instead to scroll or sleep. Showering is an unhill climb for me. I find comfort in fanfiction because of the characters I know and the narratives I trust (my kind therapist has assured me this is not unhealthy behavior). I forget about dinner, so I often scramble to heat up chicken nuggets and maybe something green while I lean against my counter feeling faint.
(Yes, I know these are tell-tale signs of depression, burnout and/or ADHD.)
My neighbor's compliment to me was reassuring in that I am doing the right thing in my life from a spectator's point of view, but it feels misaligned from what I should be feeling based on what I consider to be a successful life so far.
I had endpoints in my life up until I graduated from college — just finish middle school, just finish high school, just finish college, and then you'll be happy — but this is the first time I haven't had anything to look forward to. I feel like I'm staring down a tunnel that I can't see the end of.
I can be mature as much as I want in spite of that tunnel, but it doesn't change my fear of its end.
Thank you, neighbor, for giving me lots to think about it. I'll try not to hold it against you next time we talk.
🥜📊
P.S. I don't know about you all, but I've been having to use AI a lot more at work lately. I push back where I can, but it is comforting to have a reminder that I am still capable of translating my thoughts to words effectively, even if it is sort of word vomit.
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Let's talk! Shoot me a comment or start a conversation with me by emailing (fancy new email alert!) hi@nutgrafs.com.