In a city where events and changes are constant, time becomes abstract. Whether it’s making plans for the upcoming weekend, setting goals for the next semester, or envisioning objectives for five years from now, this perpetual state of anticipation detracts from the present moment.

It had been a while since reality had shifted. The people around me no longer seemed to have control over situations, issues that were once mere projections became part of my repertoire, and inner questions began to grow increasingly complex and decisive. In the blink of an eye, I found myself seated at the elders’ table, understanding that from now on, what would set me apart from others was a mere number.

The most incredible discomfort of this fact was how I did not feel part of this context. Despite having experienced remarkable moments, achieved dreams, and matured my behaviour, I still felt the pulse of a teenager within me. I would never have the chance to date Damiano from Maneskin, but I still carry his photo card in my purse. I feel just like a young indie girl who found fulfilment in curating a Tumblr page and watching cult films, but now, covered with duties and obligations. 

Reflecting on the personas I carry within me, I considered whether I was an impostor juvenile or a non-functional adult. On the one hand, I could no longer follow the internet trends because I work. On the other hand, I lacked the financial stability to consider myself grown. But ultimately, what defines us as adults?

By law, an individual only becomes an adult at age 18. Science asserts that only those who have reached the peak of their growth and biological functions can be deemed as such. Psychology believes that maturity is linked to emotional, intellectual, and social development, rejecting the notion that the adult concept is tied to a number. In practice, pinpointing a definitive definition is more complicated, as all these factors influence how society perceives us. Without a clear answer to my dilemma, I faced a day not meant for children.

With just a cup of coffee in my stomach and a lot of work ahead, I felt the first relief of the week when reading the message that Rebecca was coming to São Paulo. This message gave me a glimpse of hope for the weekend.

Rebecca and I developed a long-distance friendship. I had only the chance to meet her days before moving to another country, but I strongly connected with her even though I had only seen her once. We shared a similar story, and events in our lives were similar, almost as if I knew her exact feelings.

The meeting was scheduled for Saturday, yet by Friday, I was already stressed enough to look forward to having a drink only the following day. Luckily, finding a company to go out with was not difficult, as Vic was also in the city and, like me, eager for a cocktail.

We rendezvoused at Regô, an intimate bar we frequented for two obvious reasons: the cocktails were fabulous and affordable for our budget and because of the bar owner. Shortly after the establishment’s opening, we had the opportunity to sit at the main bar counter and spot a cute bartender with a tattoo of the bar’s logo. This little curiosity led us to a few drinks and conversations that made us realise we were in the presence of one of the Marcellus. A wealthy family that owns the best restaurants and bars in the city.

As we sat outside the establishment, Vic and I discussed work matters and the corporate world. It’s incredible how the job market is nothing more than a fifth grade with paydays. Nevertheless, with Vic’s long-term perspective and grounded approach, she confided about her future possibilities and certain decisions she would have to make to advance in her career. Indeed, this was an inevitable topic. Certain aspects hold more weight at our age, and career can become a prevalent voice for some.

After a few drinks and some advice on what I could do with my life, Vic and I decided to go dancing, and Johnny Luxo was the perfect kick-off to the weekend. Unfortunately, I had been immature enough to forget to eat before going out and to hydrate after the drinks, resulting in an absurd hangover that compelled me to adhere to a diet of light foods, litres of water, and painkillers.

Despite the unbearable headache, the absolute agony came when I received a notification in the WhatsApp group confirming the gathering that night. Rebecca was already in São Paulo, and all I could think about was lying down and watching any reality show where a couple fights or buys a mansion. Bound by the commitment to honour my friends, I channelled to Samantha Jones’ archetype and dove into my most provocative and classic outfit.

Upon arriving at Laura’s house by Uber, all my regrets about leaving home vanished instantly. In those moments, I pondered whether the idea that ‘the true love of the new era is friendship’ held any truth. I feel comfortable and happy to have friends with whom to share my days, cry, laugh, and learn. Putting me in a place to remember that no man could surpass that.

This time, we decided to go to Luiiza bar. This place serves the real Brazilian aesthetic and has enough space to accommodate our lengthy discussions and questionable opinions. As each group member arrived, we noticed we displayed at most 2 cm of fabric at the bottom. As Vic pointed out, the dress code of our party is to show a part of our buttocks.

Amidst one conversation and the next, Pietro recounted an unusual event from the previous day, and the entire table froze while hearing that current dates no longer required conversation or, apparently, even clothing. Nonetheless, we all knew that Pietro was on such an advanced level in the realm of meetings, and we would never even come close to his experiences.

However, the group’s opinion regarding dating younger men caught my attention in that conversation. For Vic, it was not worth wasting time with someone who had not even graduated from university yet; for Pietro, it was enjoyable to teach new skills to someone so young; whereas for Laura, age was just a number, and to Rebecca, individuals younger than her were practically not even human. I had no issue with it, but I confess that my self-esteem would be questioned depending on the guy’s age. From that point on, I realised that we no longer see ourselves as young. Our experiences, responsibilities, and preferences set us apart from our immature years.

After nearly being kicked out of the bar, I was drained of energy to continue the night, so I hailed an Uber.

On the way home, I reflected on what being an adult means. As part of a new generation, concepts like home, family, and marriage were far from defining us as grown. This might confuse and make us feel like we have yet to reach adulthood. Along this train of thought, there is no set and definitive state of being an adult. Some behaviours and nuances lead us to be such.

A well-thought-out decision, a well-constructed repertoire, a structured dream. All of this places us as adults. Everything that arises from a solid foundation. Comprehend the world’s madness but not succumb to it. Know that people can be cruel but still pursue beauty in small actions.

It is when we learn to care for others but still seek someone to care for us. Adulthood resides in sobriety and clarity, but it also recognises that we were once young and are often allowed to remain so.

A.M.