Fifty Shades of Gray Blurred Lines
I remember when I thought that being a grown-up was the most exciting thing in the world. Remember when you’d add a few months onto your age so you could tell people you were 13, instead of 12 and ¾? Remember when you thought that having your own house and your own car and your own children/free manual labor was the ultimate freedom, and you couldn’t grow up fast enough? Every time you’d tell a grown-up that you couldn’t wait to be older, they’d give you the clichéd “Don’t grow up too fast, kid. Someday you’ll wish you were younger." You thought, “Yeah well, you don’t even eat Oreos for breakfast every day like I will when I grow up, of course you hate being an adult”. To me, as a fiercely independent only child with loving but textbook-definition helicopter parents who packed me gross healthy lunches that no one ever wanted to trade me for a Fruit Rollup, being a grownup was the absolute dream. In a lot of ways, it is pretty great. We get to drink alcohol and