My mother says age is just a number. The older I get, the more I agree with her.
When I was a young girl, I looked forward to becoming 13, then 16, then 21. After that, the wishing game ended.
As a teen, there were times I wasn’t taken seriously. “You’re too young,” I was told. Now I sometimes hear, “You’re too old.” I must have passed the perfect age without realizing it.
In my 20’s, I was certain the magic age of maturity was 30. The day I turned 30, I was surprised to find I still felt immature in many ways.
Today I am in my 50’s, though I feel much younger, until I look into the mirror. I continue to learn new things and there is never enough time in the day to do everything I enjoy.
I have decided to ignore my age. It really is just a number. And besides, I still haven’t decided what I want to be when I grow up.
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