I turned 18 Nov. 13, 2012 (along with over 12 other classmates that have their birthdays a week within mine). I have to say, it was the most meaningful birthday I have had yet (well, second most meaningful).

First, there was my actual birthday (Nov.13, 1994, don’t forget it!). I don’t have any memories there but that is probably number one on the most important list.

Then there were a few bowling alley birthdays, a couple Lazer Quest trips and some mini golf  ones before the golden birthday at 13 (Lazer Quest again).

There was 15, when I could finally get my permit. Sixteen when I could get my license (though I actually couldn’t get my license yet because I didn’t get my permit until I was 15 and a half).

Then came 17 when my parents stopped nagging me about having more than one person in the car. That was also when I started being able to see R-rated movies without an adult.  Seeing late-night concerts (Rusko!) was also a privilege.

Seventeen was pretty big, but I can’t remember my 17th birthday for the life of me because it was a pretty insignificant day in my life. But I think I will remember number 18. Number 18 was a bit different.

Throughout the entire day of my big one-eight (that day being Nov. 13, don’t forget), I kept thinking to myself, “I am now an adult.” Admittedly, it made me want to sit up a little straighter and do everything a little better. It sounds corny, maybe a little weird, but I felt I had some higher responsibilities now that I was officially an adult.

But the whole “I’m now an adult!” thing wore off pretty quickly (I don’t still say it to myself). And I’ve started to realize why: it is because I’m not an adult.

I am 18. For all those that don’t know, that means I can legally purchase and use any form of tobacco, I can gamble, I can go to clubs, I have no curfew, I can get married,and I can order things from infomercials. But I either don’t want to do most of these things or I still can’t.

I will certainly be waiting on marriage, lottery tickets are dumb and the casino age in Illinois is actually 21. Everyone orders things online now, anyway, strip clubs fall somewhere between antique stores and the sewer on places where I want to go and I have a curfew still. (It’s 11:30, and when I don’t get home by that time I get in trouble.)

As far as tobacco, for the most part I never want to touch it. I will admit, though, when my parents asked me what I wanted to do for my 18th birthday, I did mention smoking a cigar.  They said absolutely not, and sure enough, I did not smoke a cigar for my 18th birthday.

This illustrates the fact that although I am legally an adult, I am really still my parents’ kid.  Until I am financially independent, I have to play by their rules.

I understand that this story won’t resonate with every reader. Some people will say that they don’t have to do what their parents say, but the thing is, you didn’t have to do what your parents said before you were 18 either. The reader who is willing to disobey his/her parents is the same one who is probably willing to disobey the cops, so legally being allowed to do something is not going to change much for you.

It is true that turning 18 allows those smokers and late-nighters more ease. You no longer have to ask your older friend to buy cigarettes for you, and now when a cop stops you on your walk to Taco Bell at four in the morning, they can’t give you a curfew ticket. However, when you get home at 4:30 a.m. reeking of cheap tacos and cigarette smoke, you are likely still to get in trouble.

Becoming an adult legally happens at 18, but being allowed to smoke, go to nightclubs, buy lottery tickets, stay out late, etc. does not make me feel like an adult.

Maybe the moment will come next year when I’m not living with my parents, or maybe it will come in four and a half years when my parents are no longer paying for my tuition, and I have a job where I make money for myself.  I’m not sure when I will start feeling like an adult, but it certainly hasn’t happened yet.