As the backlash from Miley Cyrus’ unexpectedly sexual dancing at the VMA’s really began to sting a few weeks ago, it was the issue of a Disney girl to Dancing girl transition struck me most. I began to reflect on my own entry into the adult world. When did it happen and why is it so difficult?

Most of our growing up is done before the watchful eyes of parents, siblings and other acquaintances who have born witness to our pre-youth, our true ‘child’ hood. Therein lies the pain: like Miley, we end up struggling with the affectations of maturity, voluntary (such as sexy dancing), and otherwise, mainly because of the disapproving, shocked audience of these changes. However much they try, those who knew you as a chubby, shy tot can’t help but be disconcerted by the evolution of that cute child into an unfathomable creature with sudden adult words, adult desires and adult complexities. The whole thing is rather uncomfortable.

For me, and lots of students, University marks a dramatic breaking off from the whole upsetting issue. During term time we can become masters of ourselves without embarrassment, able to make some serious, long term attempts at reaching adulthood. Our peers are ill-informed judges with no idea of our true, innocent past or inexperience. Sure, when we return home there can be an unsettling dose of ‘mother doesn’t recognise me’ and ‘who am I and what have I become’ syndrome, but a lot of adult behaviour (setting your own priorities, drinking, swearing, relationships, cooking in a way your mum or dad wouldn’t have and the like) can now be glossed over or even totally hidden. Miley is missing out on this opportunity to freely engage in a period of growth, and I say poor her. Leaving your ‘Disney’-self behind is hard enough to deal with in your own mind, without a nation exploding with its own confusion, disappointment and unreadiness at your adult actions. It seems to me that we should all be grateful for this freedom to develop without anyone, really, watching. 

However, If University is such a breeding ground for becoming grown up, then how come I (and many of my peers) regularly act so much more childlike here? I am certain I have been far more irresponsible, needy and petulant since my arrival in fresher’s week than I ever was at school or sixth form. The truth is, I think life pre-university freedom, like Miley’s teen star era, gave us unbelievably easy opportunities to seem and feel like a steadily maturing goody-two shoes. At sixth form I felt on the surface not that unlike a successful 9 to 5 businesswoman. I would travel to my workplace, work diligently, keep track of my appointments, eat a healthy freshly prepared diet, and eschew distractions in the evenings to get on with my long term projects. At University, not so! During the extended stress and procrastination sessions that were my only extracurricular activity in first year, I had ample time to reflect on this sudden regression.

My conclusion is as follows: I had it really rather easy before, I never was much of an adult at all. My commute to school was policed by my mother, who woke me up, hurried me along and drove me there. My diligent work was often forced, and made easier by being split into sensible homework-sized tasks. My ‘appointments’ were a repeated schedule of events with the same people and leaders, at the same location, for which little preparation was expected. My diet was good because I did not shop for, or cook it. My evening study and dedication was aided by a ‘countryside’ social life, whereby my friends and I lived within unreasonable distance of each other and neighbouring attractions. 

I once despaired at having become suddenly pathetic, but, like Ms. Cyrus’ interest in sex, I doubt that this underlying current of childishness is brand new, even if it is only now beginning to manifest itself. Rather, I’m now getting my chance to have a go at being a real adult and finding it tough. Maybe at the end of my degree I will be totally mature and sensible, but for now, we’ll see.