25

January 7th, 2006 | View Comments

Contrary to most social and legal standards, I consider age 25 to be the true beginning of adulthood. Not 16, not 18, not 21. Twenty-five. Thus, I guess I am now an adult. Heh.

Although the rest of your body matures years earlier–probably over a decade earlier if you use the Capable of Procreation standard–your brain does not fully mature until your mid-20s. The part that matures last happens to be the prefrontal cortex, the region believed to responsible for planning, decision-making, and judgment.

This in theory has significant implications for your behavior. Certainly any effects of neurological maturity would interact with life experience–I know some people who still acted like they were 18 at age 25 thanks to a dearth of self-discipline, but it’s kind of funny to me, a neuro geek, that the only people that seem to recognize this particular life milestone are the car insurance companies and the car rental agencies.

Oh, and Sars.

There is something Neverland-ish about still being a student, although being a grad student is as real a job as any, as far as I’m concerned. The students in my department have been told that we are to consider ourselves junior colleagues to the faculty and carry ourselves accordingly rather than considering ourselves mere students. This defines a very different lifestyle from the one I had as an undergrad.

Now that I’m fully an adult, I suppose it has to stop freaking me out to do adult-y things like wrangle with my insurance company. It doesn’t freak me out to do it–I am the master of the polite customer service smackdown–but it freaks me out after I’ve done it in an “AAAAHHHH, I’m turning into my MOTHER” way.

On the other hand, does anybody ever really get over the fear of turning into one of their parents?

Yvonne posted this on January 7th, 2006 @ 12:36am in Navelgazing | Permalink to "25"

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