I'm 36 now.

I’m 36 now.

18 twice over.

A double adult.

If I showed 18 year old me a supercut of what’s in store for the next 18, she’d probably throw up like she’d been on an extreme carnival ride.

 “Well it’s not thaaat crazy” I lie to comfort her. I attempt to muster succinct advice and all I can think of is “Hang the fuck on”. She says “I don’t trust people over 30”. I share some helpful charts and graphs to demonstrate the benefit of growing up. “Look! your age doubles but you only put up with half as much shit”. She unconvincingly tells me she already doesn’t care what anyone thinks. I conjure poignant analogies to describe the future, while 18 year old me rolls her eyes, unimpressed with my “wisdom”.

We realize the meetup was destined to be doomed. Afterall we’re going to live life exactly how we live it. I regret making a powerpoint presentation for an 18 year old. She hopes my high waisted pants are ironic. We agree that we’ll always be connected, but should probably stick to our own chapters. She thanks me for keeping her alive. I tell her it’s going to be wild but worth it.

Afterward I call 54 year old me to debrief but I just get her voicemail. “Hi you’ve reached Zoë, I no longer have an actual phone because they are outdated, if you want to let me know you are thinking of me, just wink at the next moonbeam, also if this is Canada Revenue, please unlock my account or give me my password.”