Blog content: The fear of turning 18

Experts by experience: Young advisor, Sage

If anyone knew me at 17, they would know the absolute fear I had of turning 18.

For me, turning 18 symbolised change, something I have never been particularly good at. Not because I dislike the idea of change, but because uncertainty feels harder to manage than something familiar. Being born in June, my birthday always fell towards the end of the academic year. But this time, it was different. It was the final year of school, the same school I had been in since I was 11.

Although I felt like I had outgrown it and was desperate to leave, I wasn’t ready to lose the structure I had grown up with. I wasn’t ready to stop seeing my friends every day. I wasn’t ready for what came next.

Leaving CAMHS was another part of that.

It’s not that I wanted to stay there forever, but it had been a consistent part of my life for most of my teenage years. I understood how it worked. It felt familiar, secure, and approachable. Moving to adult services felt completely different. The idea of sitting in a waiting room with people much older than me felt uncomfortable and out of place, like being moved into a space I didn’t quite belong in yet.

I had also built a strong relationship with my therapist by that point. It felt like I was finally making progress, which made the idea of leaving even harder.

As my birthday got closer, I started to dread it. Each day felt like I was getting closer to the moment everything would change. It felt like there was a countdown to becoming someone I didn’t feel ready to be.

But then my birthday came… and nothing really happened.

My world didn’t suddenly change. I didn’t wake up feeling different. Yes, I could legally go to the pub, but everything else stayed the same. I didn’t receive a set of “adult” responsibilities overnight. I didn’t suddenly become more certain or more capable.

I was still me.

Looking back, I think being so focused on that one day clouded my perspective. I treated it like a turning point, when the changes I was afraid of were gradual.

I didn’t leave CAMHS until mid-July.
I didn’t start university until the end of September.
I saw my friends throughout the summer.

And in some ways, turning 18 brought opportunities I hadn’t expected. That summer, I had the chance to travel around Europe, something that became one of the most exciting and freeing experiences I’d had.

Now, I’m turning 20, and I still don’t feel like an “adult.”

I’ve definitely grown. I feel more stable, more capable, and more aware of myself. And when I look at my 17-year-old brother and his friends, I can see the difference.

But I don’t feel like an “adult adult.” Not in the way my parents are, or my lecturers at university. I feel older, but I still feel young.

And I think that’s something people don’t really talk about.

Becoming an adult doesn’t happen all at once. It’s not a switch that flips when you turn 18. It’s gradual, uneven, and often unclear.

There isn’t a moment when everything suddenly makes sense.

We’re often told that adulthood means independence, responsibility, and having things figured out. But it often looks like learning as you go, figuring things out slowly, and sometimes feeling completely unsure.

Even from a developmental perspective, we’re still growing. Our brains continue developing into our mid-20s. In many ways, we are still becoming.

I think in five years, I’ll probably look back and realise how young I still was at 20. And maybe that never fully goes away.

But what I’ve come to understand is this:
The fear I had at 17 wasn’t really about turning 18; it was about the unknown.

And the unknown doesn’t disappear when you become an adult.
You just get better at moving through it.

If you’re approaching 18 and feeling scared, it doesn’t mean you’re unprepared; it means you care about what comes next. Growing up isn’t about becoming someone completely different, but realising you don’t have to have everything figured out to keep moving forward.