If you firmly believe in your soul that 1987 was precisely 13 years ago, do not check a calculator. Leave the math in the past where it belongs! You aren't bad at numbers - you are simply suffering from a severe case of Millennial Age Dysmorphia.
Enter Helen McPherson: Folkestone’s own former hairdresser turned full-time internet legend. Born in the 80s, raised in the 90s, and coming of age in the glorious, body-glittered 2000s, Helen managed to turn a classic existential crisis into an iconic second act.
© Helen McPhersonThe Deal or No Deal plot twist
Helen’s sudden life transformation started with an unlikely catalyst: a stint on the TV game show Deal or No Deal. Leaving her husband and children at home for weeks to film was a strange, mind-bending experience. When she walked back through her front door, she realised she wasn't the same person who left.
Cue the ultimate life re-evaluation. A year ago, she took the plunge into full-time content creation, channeling her lifelong desire to put people at ease using her ultimate gift: making deep connections through tactical oversharing.
"The irony of my career being built on a smartphone and social media is not lost on me!" Helen laughs.
A nostalgic superpower
Turns out, Helen’s brain works a little differently. Some call it Hyperphantasia, but to her, it's just her everyday memory doing extreme gymnastics. She can recall childhood moments in vivid 4K resolution - the exact furniture layouts, what she was wearing, and precisely what the late 90s smelled like.
Her total obsession with the past taps straight into what she calls 'The Millennial ache' - that weirdly physical, slightly painful grief for a bygone world before smartphones, where your biggest concern was keeping a Tamagotchi alive.
"I love getting messages from people saying, 'I thought I was the only person who thought this!' or 'You brought it all back.' It’s comforting to know we’re all in this delusion together."
Ready to diagnose yourself?
© GeminiAccording to Helen, the best thing about being a millennial is "defying the ageing process. We are redefining what middle age looks like."
And the worst thing? "Not feeling like we are actual grown-ups. So many of our generation collectively feel like we never actually graduated to adulthood and we are just imposters. We are looking for the nearest responsible adult, but the outside world is starting to perceive us as the responsible adults."
So, it's time to put down the anti-ageing cream, turn up the 2000s R&B, and check out Helen’s list of unmistakable signs you’re living with Millennial Age Dysmorphia.
Do you have Millennial Age Dysmorphia?
You don’t know what you want to be when you 'grow up'.
If someone says "madam'" or "ma'am" to you, you look around for an older woman. You know they can’t be talking to you.
You feel like you are an unsupervised child.
You have no idea where the stopcock is in your house.
You still refer to people in their school years. "Oh, yeah, Sarah! She was the year above me!"
You still use your Hotmail email address with your full name you got in secondary school.
When someone asks your age, you whisper it, then pause for them to say… "Stopppp! No, you're not!"
You do not identify as the age on your passport or birth certificate.
In an emergency situation, you look for the nearest responsible adult.
If someone comes to the door to read the meter you ask them to come back when your grown-up is home.
If you have children, you may feel like a teen mum. When you go to parents night, you expect longstanding teachers to say, “What are you doing back here so soon? You’re too young to have those kids.”
You describe yourself as "not a regular mum, but a cool mum".
People ask you, "What’s for dinner?" Why would you know? Ask mum.
Your peers are talking about retinols and anti-aging products, but you’re still buying products for your teenage acne-prone skin.
You are irresponsible and cannot be trusted to make big decisions. You are just a literal baby.
You refer to serious 'grown-up admin' as 'adulting'.
Everyone around you is ageing and getting older, but your secret super flex is you are actually exempt from the ageing process. Sorry, but this is not something you need to worry about.
You may have accidentally got a position of authority in the workplace - a grown-up job - but you are always looking over your shoulder, waiting for someone to say you shouldn’t be doing this.
You cosplay during the day as an adult, essentially dressing up as your parents in order to be taken seriously.
You don’t just believe yourself to look younger than you are - your whole personality and essence is that of a young person.
Results
0 – 5 Points: The actual adult (Or a secret Gen Z)
How on earth did you get in here? You probably know where your stopcock is, answer the doorbell without hiding behind the sofa, and accept the year on your birth certificate. You’re either a genuinely adjusted adult, or a Gen Z reader who opened this article by mistake. Enjoy your functioning adult life, but please don't ask us what's for dinner - we don't know either.
6 – 10 Points: Mild nostalgia syndrome
You’re holding it together reasonably well, but the cracks are starting to show. You occasionally wince when someone calls you "ma'am," and your secondary school Hotmail address is still going strong for online shopping discounts. You can handle basic "adulting," but every now and then, you look around the room for a proper grown-up to take charge.
11 – 15 Points: Advanced adult cosplayer
You are actively cosplaying as a grown-up on a daily basis. You’ve somehow ended up in a position of authority at work, but every morning you put on your smart clothes feeling like you're dressing up in your parents' wardrobe. You are convinced someone is going to figure out that you firmly believe the 1990s were approximately a decade ago.
16 – 20 Points: ‘Literal baby’ status
Congratulations! Time has no meaning to you. You are an unsupervised child living in an adult’s body. You assume your mum will deal with life's big questions. If a trade person knocks on the door, you tell them to come back when your grown-up is home. Passports and birth certificates are simply government propaganda - in your soul, you are forever 19, listening to Y2K pop, and waiting for someone else to decide what’s for dinner.
