Eighteen looks a lot different for my daughter than it did for my son. My daughter is still a little girl. Although she does enjoy clothes as gifts, as long as they are both fashionable AND comfortable, she still longs for toys. She thinks along the lines of a grade-schooler, not a high-schooler.
At eighteen, she never complains when we hold hands to walk to the car; she likes it.
You cannot compare siblings; I know that kids mature at different rates – but the difference between my son and my daughter at 18 is astounding to me.
I have a very vivid memory of asking my son, at 18, about his phone bill and of him telling me, “Mom, I’m a grown man; I’ll take of that myself.”
He was a very responsible man long before age 18. He had to be.