Some of us can recall the exact time in which we reached certain
milestones on life's road--the wonderful hour when we passed from
childhood to girlhood--the enchanted, beautiful--or perhaps the
shattering and horrible--hour when girlhood was suddenly womanhood--
the chilling hour when we faced the fact that youth was definitely
behind us--the peaceful, sorrowful hour of the realization of age.
Emily Starr never forgot the night when she passed the first
milestone, and left childhood behind her for ever.

-- ch. 3 - In the Watches of the Night, Emily Climbs

Miss Stacy told me long ago that by the time I was twenty my
character would be formed, for good or evil. I don't feel that
it's what it should be. It's full of flaws."

-- An Interlude, ch. xix, Anne of the Island

For years and years, ever since I was around 10 years old (incidentally when I began reading Anne) and first defined certain ambitions and desires, I have felt like I was stationary. Externally life changed: I learned about different subjects, had sufferings and joys, lived in different places, but I still felt like I was essentially the same person. I felt very much like I was a child, idealistic about what I wanted to do and about people and relationships. The intensity of emotions - the selfish wanting of something very badly, and the inevitable disappointment - caused me grief, but it was the only way I knew how to live. The grief would repair itself after a good cry. It was a volatile, but (let us daresay with the snide condescension of the old and wise) somehow very secure world.

Unlike Emily to whom life changed overnight, I can't put my finger on what when or how it vanished, but recently i've come to realize: I am an adult now. The shelter has dispersed somehow; this is life, this is the real deal.

(of course, the intensity of realism can be just a phase too...)

I think the changes show up mainly in how I deal with people. For one thing, I find that I judge people more quickly; not negatively, but more decisively. I can tell if I'll get along with someone shortly after I meet them: if we have some common ground to begin with or not. I guess that's what "Miss Stacy" means by "our characters being formed." And most surprisingly, I find that I can be civil and friendly to people I don't like or respect. Hypocrisy for the society's sake...

It awes and distresses me at the same time: this ability to hide and pretend. I used to sulk for days after I'd get in a fight with someone; and make-up dramatically but thoroughly; now I pretend nothing has happened fifteen minutes later and I try to forget. I used to tell people I was angry with them right out, similarly I always made a point to earnestly tell the people I really loved how much I appreciate them, now I'm afraid of doing either. I make the same small talk with my closest friends as with complete strangers, and complain about the weather just because every else is doing it. It's amazing what we give up for the sake of making life seem like it's running smoothly. I don't know if it's a good thing.