The freedom to make your own decisions is one of the great perks of adulthood. Gone are the days when you had to get permission to eat ice cream for breakfast or follow curfew. On the flip side, there are added responsibilities such as waking up every day to go to work and paying bills. I take time out often to enjoy the liberties that come with being old enough to make your own rules but young enough to break them.
While I was busy living the life of a young and fabulous Jo’burger, things changed in my life. I
became an aunt, which changed me in unimaginable ways. A little man entered my life and made me see things differently; he truly makes me a better person. Extra money that I would have blown of seven bottles of Essie nail polish now goes to the cutest baby stuff I didn’t even know existed. Then I realised that I was now officially Aunty Zam. Aunty? Me? Surely I was too young, and quite frankly too hip, to be forced to wear such a label? I’d prefer to stick to Louis Vuitton and Christian Lacroix – thank you.
Then, every month I found I was attending a baby shower, engagement party or receiving a wedding invitation. The engagements and marriages didn’t scare me much; after all, beautiful, young people fall in love all the time. I was wearier of the baby showers, they represented a new generation of people who would one day think I’m old and uncool. My tales of wild parties and random kisses shared with foreign men during the
World Cup would bore them. Attempts to make them follow my
tweets (so they could see how interesting) I actually was, would have them dozing off.
I spent the next week reaffirming my youth by doing the respectable thing… partying. Thursday night I headed to Latinova, a club in Rosebank. I watched performances from SA’s hip-hop greats – Jozi, Maggz, L-Tido and Zubz. Afterwards I danced like an oompa loompa on a sugar rush and then went home at a ridiculous hour. I wasn’t happy to wake up two hours later, jump into the shower and head to work (remember that responsibility part of adulthood). Friday night was supposed to be recovery night but I partied at a friend’s house instead – further making me feel like I could still hang with the best of the young and exciting. It turns out shots of tequila at any age are a dumb idea.
This rush came to a screeching halt on Saturday. It was time for quality time with my new nephew. He didn’t care that I have a cool job or that I was partying up a storm the night before. He wanted love, affection and his milk.
Sunday was no different; I headed to a friend’s house for her son’s third birthday party. I was surrounded by jumping castles, a Winnie the Pooh cake and children high on fizzy drinks. After almost having a panic attack, I looked around and realised I was also surrounded by my friends, the people who make me laugh and hold my hand when I cry. I realised that even if the demonskids who were running around like certified lunatics didn’t know or ever appreciate that we were so funky and hip, we would always know it.
We would always remind each other of who we were and more importantly who we are growing to be. So maybe all aspects of adulthood have their place. I do, however, draw the line at not partying at all. I am, after all, a bona fide COSMO girl.