On Being A Grown-up

As I near the official end of my teens (to the immense chagrin of my older sister, who claims she’s not old enough for me to be twenty), the prospect of becoming a bonafide adult keeps encroaching on my consciousness.

But what does it mean to become a female grown-up in 2009? I’ve always assumed that ‘growing up’ mean settling in to who you are. For women, though, it seems that ‘growing up’ means finding more and more things to worry you when you look in the mirror.

A few days ago, I looked in the mirror and noticed for the first time in my life that my face was, gasp, shiny! Now, not too long ago, I don’t think I would have noticed if my face glowed in the dark; the shiny-to-not shiny scale of beauty was not one by which I measured myself. Hell, as a ten year old, I *pursued* shininess, with the aid of massive quantities of $2 body glitter. Yet here I was, seriously considering spending money I don’t have to defeat the (completely natural) presence of oil on my face. I guess this is part of being an ‘adult.’

It’s not that this is all that sudden; I think I just started noticing it. Through the years, I’ve constantly been told that ‘it’s time’ to start adding this or that to my morning beauty routine, as though each addition were some important ritual of aging. "It’s time" to start shaving my legs, using concealer, styling my hair, wearing fashionable shoes, etc. I’ve successfully ignored most of these warnings until recently, when the specter of adulthood has taken over my brain. I look in the mirror and I can’t see an adult. Somehow, I’ve subconsciously accepted that while natural (read: frizzy) hair and shiny skin are acceptable for kids, grown-ups use expensive glossing and skin-"care" products (key word: expensive. Ah, capitalism).

I consider myself a feminist, but damn if it doesn’t bug me every time I walk into a meeting, or even go out with friends, and realize I’m the only female not wearing make-up or heels. Did I miss that class during sex-ed? Did puberty forget me? Why am I such a kid?

There’s nothing particularly profound in this post, but this has been on my mind a lot recently. Thus, I leave with my Women’s Studies Professor’s favorite quote: "It’s hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head."

Disclaimer: This post was written by a Feministing Community user and does not necessarily reflect the views of any Feministing columnist, editor, or executive director.

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