When I was younger, I used to imagine that there would come a time when I would simply “become an adult” – age 16, 18, 21, it seemed to vary depending on who I asked. Now I’m 31 and old enough to know better – there is no magic number where you simply “become an adult” and there isn’t really anything to mark the shift between being a child and being an adult. It’s just an accumulation of experiences. Your reaction to and ability to adapt or deal with these experiences isn’t even a factor.

Not sure where I’m going with this. Let’s talk about nothing & nowhere, which I’m still not sure if I should capitalise or not.

Through Primary and Secondary School, my best friend was someone who had the same name as me, was born the day after me, and seemed to be better at literally everything than I was. They were smarter, more athletic, more popular, their parents had more money – and weren’t scary like mine were – and they were just BETTER. Being a day older was the only thing I had over them – and of course, when you’re a highly competitive kid who gets jealous easily, you cling to any perceived advantage you have like it’s the most important thing about your existence – and god, I was so bitter sometimes. It took me years to get over my inferiority complex and stop comparing myself to this person.

Lynne dredged up some very old, very painful memories.