It seems like my generation of women were in such a damn hurry to fast forward through adolescence and youth and college and be married homeowners with babies and jobs that only now are they waking up and saying, "Whoa. There went my youth. Now I am old. Shit."
Enter Edward Cullen and Christian Grey and the Followill Brothers wailing about sex in every song. Enter stories about prom angst and the latent heroism of underestimated girls. There's always a been market for those looking to escape into anything full of unresolved identity and extended sexual longing.
Why women of my generation sought to expedite their salad days is beyond me, however. It's fully depressing. I did the same thing, though. Maybe everyone does this, every generation?