I’ve often found maturity to be one of life’s biggest oxymorons. It’s something we’re taught to chase – in order to “grow up” you must be responsible and composed. Yet at the same time, stay young, stay playful, don’t lose your childhood joy. These two opposing states are continuously thrown your way without a word as to how it should be achieved, and I think that’s where my frustration with it begins. 

Being mature for your age is an interesting concept in itself. An expectation has already been set, by society or the people around you, about how someone your age shouldbehave. Therefore any action you take will always be measured against this imaginary scale of maturity. But if a girl leaves home at 18 and supports herself for years since, she might mature more quickly than a girl who still lives at home, right? Which is where it starts to get complicated… 

I’m 22 years old, and I look my age, but whenever people guess how old I am they always seem to add 5 years. I’m a pretty mature 22 year old which is a blessing and a curse and here’s why. It feels like a compliment at first being told you’re mature for your age and most of the time I take it as one. It becomes part of who you are, something you try and live up to, you look up to those around you and are proud to be seen as like them.

But the more I think about it, it seems experience has far more to do with maturity than age ever did. You’ve lost a loved one – you know what true grief feels like and will forever have more empathy for those going through a similar thing. You’ve had your heart broken – you’ll be more delicate with the feelings of others because you know how fragile they can be. You’ve been properly, undeniably in the wrong – you’ll be slower to criticise and far more open to a better understanding.  This is the kind of maturity that can’t be measured on an imaginary scale. 

Here it gives you something back. Life experience, more than anything else, gives you a better understanding of yourself and therefore a clearer view of the wider world. You become able to sit with uncomfortable feelings instead of running from them, you think before you react and have a heightened self-awareness. You’ll slowly start to value depth over distraction, and your choices become more intentional. 

I think the ultimate goal is to be so grounded in who you are despite the fact that you’re still figuring the rest out. 

Meanwhile, being seen as mature for your age quietly raises the standards you’re held to, and not only internally but also by others. Any mistake you make is seen as more than just a slip up because you no longer receive the same grace as others your age. You’re expected to know better, even though you’re still figuring life out just like everyone else. Maturity feels less like a compliment now. 

Then comes the part that no one really talks about: you begin to notice immaturity in your elders. People who should, by all definitions, “know better”. You see the problem and you see a way for it to be resolved as amicably as possible with a simple, honest conversation. Meanwhile, these people 10 years older, act with narrow-mindedness, avoidance and passive aggression that is completely unnecessary (definitely don’t have a specific example in mind writing this). It’s uncomfortable to witness and even harder to be stuck in the middle of. 

But how are you supposed to tell them they should grow up, without overstepping? Just talk, just be direct, just act like an adult. But how do you say that to someone 10 years older than you? Especially when you’ve been taught that maturity is about composure, accountability and respect. 

It’s a silent burden of awareness (an awareness that is also a blessing and a curse). So maybe you stay quiet, and end up carrying an emotional responsibility that isn’t really yours. Now I’m beginning to think maturity isn’t all it’s cut out to be. In a world where we all want nothing more than to feel like a valid human existence, maturity asks so much more of you while excusing far less. 

We have our whole lives to “grow up” and the people who are telling us to do so are only figuring it out for the first time too. I think real maturity comes from knowing when to be responsible and when to let go. Don’t chase maturity itself, chase the balance.