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Maturity…not Maternity

September 21, 2011

Recently I’ve been spending a lot of time wondering about maturity. Mostly, do I want to be a mature adult or do I want to behave like a college student? The answer to that is really difficult, because of course I want to be a mature adult, but then I remember how much it sucks to be a mature adult, and how much fun it was to be irresponsible and regard the world as if it were your playground and as if you could do, be, or achieve anything. When you’re a mature adult you have to recognize that certain things are just out of the question, and I don’t feel up to that. Also, I’m going to be the first to say this because I really don’t want to be beaten to the punch: my ego is a little bit out of control. I did not expect this to happen when I moved to LA, honestly, because I thought that people here would be shallow and I am not a model and I eat food so I would be ignored and become, if anything, more modest. Well, no. Being showered with compliments is fantastic, and I adore it, but it’s really making me an asshole. And more than that, it’s making me not a “mature adult”.

I want to be clear now about something: I do not want to have babies. I don’t mean ever, I just mean, at this juncture. I think that should be obvious by my previous statement about being a self-centered, vain asshole, but just in case you missed that blatant signage back there at the end of the first paragraph (which surely should have been more than the first paragraph, but I have a tendency to ramble…it’s part of being vain and enjoying the sound of your own voice…and fingers hitting the keyboard) I’m going to say it again: I do NOT want to have babies right now. So…stop asking me to. I don’t mean literally (well, that too), but what about “I live with my boyfriend” equates “I want to birth a CHILD”? I mean, I know what about it does, but how can I separate the maturity I like from the maturity everyone attributes to my life state? I also don’t want to get married. I know that’s truly shocking, but seriously, I don’t. I live in a city that I’m beginning to enjoy, but also kind of loathe, I’m working my ass off to try and “make it” in a profession where saying you want to “make it” is absolutely laughably near impossible, and I have to put gas in my car in $15 increments, because I can’t afford to fill it at once. So no, I’m not ready to get married, or have babies. I’m not saying I want to be out at a bar throwing back shots, dancing in the corner, hoarding the jukebox and chain smoking, but what if I did? Who’s stopping me? What’s the difference?

No thanks

The technical term for all of this may be “life crisis”, but I feel stable, or maybe that’s the rum talking…

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One Comment leave one →
  1. October 4, 2011 7:51 PM

    I’m actually pretty shocked anyone expects the M or B word from you right now… The idea of being married with a kid right now is about the same as running off to be a circus performer. Fascinating visual, not gonna happen.

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