I distinctly remember turning eight years old and being ecstatic that I was officially halfway to 16. Sixteen was the age of Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield, the "Sweet Valley High" twins. The matching gold lavalier-wearing twins. The red Fiat-driving twins. The double-loving, double-awesome twins.
Then I was 12 (halfway to 24!) and I wanted to be Brenda Walsh. Shiny bangs Brenda Walsh. Breaking up with Dylan to "Losing My Religion," but Pre-Summer in Europe and -Almost-Marrying-Stuart Brenda Walsh. I just couldn't wait to grow up.
Today I'm 33 -- the mother of a baby girl who is halfway to one. I unapologetically call 28-year-olds "kids" and shake my finger at people texting and driving. I have no qualms about making dinner reservations at the un-bewitching hour of 6:30 p.m.. Seriously, who eats at 8? What is this, Europe?
Now that I've made it to the other side, I find myself torn. What fake person do I want to be now that I'm all grown up? Does becoming a parent exclude me from secretly wishing I could be one of the free-spirited young gals I started DVR-ing to watch during those middle of the night feedings?
Let's take a closer look.
The New Girl:
The 2 Broke Girls:
So what does this reveal? I mean, besides the fact that I was just obviously looking for a reason for bangs for the last 21 years? It's a little sad to be "more mature" than the girls I might have once aspired to be, but I think I'll take solace in the fact that I could potentially be their Cool Mom Friend. The one that has a baby, but is still down with drinking out of red Solo cups at loft parties. The one who borrows their shoes and lends them money.
Would you trade places with anyone on TV right now?
Read more from Liz Kozak here.
Follow Liz Kozak on Twitter: www.twitter.com/LizKoz