The Neverland Problem
“Oh darling, don’t you ever grow up,” instructs my righteous and all-knowing leader Taylor Swift.
Bad news, Taylor. I’m totally failing.
But, so are you.
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It’s 2023. The year that has lingered in my mind, casting impending doom upon me with each tick of the clock, approaches with nauseating speed. 2024 – my graduating year. I have never felt so old, and I have never felt so pressed for time.
Pretty much since birth, the dread that comes with aging is cast upon us. Each passing day of a child’s life, a mother yearns for another moment with her baby—another moment before they are walking, running, dropping mama’s hand to find comfort in that of another. I see it all the time on social media – the young mother’s post for her baby’s first birthday captioned with all the stops.
“Where did the time go? My baby is so grown! Give me back the tiny, wordless, motionless newborn in my arms!”
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But, I get it. Time is precious, life moves fast and above all, it is finite. Once upon a time we were wide-eyed youths watching as valiant Peter Pan flew with Wendy Darling on their adventure to Neverland – the place where no one ever grows up. Next thing you know we have our go-to wish for every shooting star, every penny thrown into a fountain and every stray eyelash that has fallen onto our cheek.
Image Courtesy: Disney
There comes a day in childhood when the thought of aging becomes a thrill. Once upon a time, being a teenager sounded like the most magical experience to me. High school, boyfriends, parties, kissing under the rain of golf course sprinklers like Troy and Gabriela. Yeah, I honestly couldn’t wait.
But then, as soon as it started, it was gone. I turned 20.
Turning 20 was probably the most disappointing birthday ever. Crying in a drive-thru line for a cheeseburger, I mourned the death of my teenage years and dwelled on the imminent boring life that awaited me.
Since then I’ve turned 21. Now my next milestone birthday is 30. Are you kidding? 30? Nobody wants to be 30.
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Image Courtesy: Pinterest 2
As Americans, and especially as American women, we live surrounded by this notion that aging is dreadful. A woman’s prime, as depicted by the media and society as we know it, is found between many bounds; while we are young but not childish, old but not wrinkled, sexually developed but not after giving birth. Super simple stuff. And so, according to society’s standards, my prime is supposedly now.
These short few years between being a kid and being a full-fledged adult are what a ‘woman’s prime’ is centered around. I do not share my experience and existential dread because I think I am unique but rather the opposite. For many young women like me, this is life.
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Lana Del Rey had a point back in 2013 when I was a fifth grader who didn’t know any better – what am I going to be when I am no longer “young and beautiful?” Who will I be? Where do I find artificial worth when I no longer have my youthful glow?
Truthfully, I’m frustrated that this is the way our society has taught us to be. I’ve always been a particularly sentimental person, but I especially mourn the end of each life chapter and this nostalgia has been making me physically sick. So, how do we combat this?
I may still be acting the part of a teenage girl in my twenties, but I know plenty of women who have grown up. Looking at them, I know that life does not lose its value when our skin starts to wrinkle and our body starts to ache.
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I may no longer get to be a kid, a teen or a college student again, I will get to be so much more. I will get to know deeper love and experience new people and places. I will hopefully get to one day become a mother and see the world through a whole new lens. I will get to follow any path I choose because my destiny is not fixed the second I graduate college (really banking on this one)! But loveliest of all, I will never experience any of it alone – I will experience it alongside every woman that ages beside me, together.
Image courtesy: Fashionpolitan
Though we try to be forever young, I challenge myself and those going through it with me to find acceptance and beauty in each new age. With every wrinkle and freckle comes a moment we once spent laughing in the sun. With each new age comes more wisdom and experience. With each second that I am alive, the luckier I may be.
Image courtesy: Tumblr @charlottedalessio
Image courtesy: Rare and beautiful treasures
Image courtesy: W Magazine
Getting older sucks, especially as women in America. There’s no denying it, and there’s no easy way to change the societal ideals thrown upon us. But, if my feelings resonate at all, know that we aren’t alone, life is meant to be lived no matter your age, and fuck it, we’re always gonna be hot.
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Strike out,
Writer: Abby Jones
Editor: Sofia Ramos
Graphic: Anabel Dent
Gainesville
Abby Jones is a writer for Strike Magazine Gainesville. She is defined by an eclectic collection of influences including but not limited to being a summer camp counselor, a lifelong dancer, having constant music playing with her at all times and her studious commitment to the latest meme. You can reach her on Instagram @abbyjones__ or email abbyjones@ufl.edu.
