Tell Me Your Chronological Age, and the Age you Are In Your Mind.
Tell Me Your Chronological Age, and the Age you Are In Your Mind.
Age is a number. Or is it two?
How old are you chronologically? In your mind? What accounts for the discrepancy? Write back and tell me in the comments.
Here’s my deal:
A month from today I will turn 56. In my mind, though, I’m much younger. When I picture myself, in the first split-second, I am 10 or 11. Sometimes I’m 15, or 25 or 35.
I can think of a few reasons this is the case for me. For instance, at my 10th birthday party at a bowling alley, after I lodged one of many gutter balls, my uncle said to me, “Well, you’ll never be one digit again.” I burst into tears, because I was shocked to learn I’d hit a milestone—one from which there was no turning back.
What other irreversible milestones lay ahead? Well, a big one: the following summer, my parents split up, and in the process prematurely converted me into a mini-adult. That year—1975/1976—was the first time I felt a discrepancy between my chronological age and the age I felt and acted. It has led to a life-long fascination with the whole idea of age and maturity, and what they mean at different times in our lives.
My aunt asked this same question to the women in my family after a holiday dinner in 1989. Everyone went around the room and answered with ages younger than their actual ones. When it was my turn, I said, "36." This got a laugh because I was 18. At 51, 36 still makes sense. I feel responsible, contributory and sassy enough that people listen when I speak. I don't feel old because I've never felt particularly young.
I feel 22 while I am 34. I am unmarried, I recently quit my well paying job,, moved back with my parents and I am trying to figure out 'What next?' with my life. I have been a late bloomer with respect to a lot of things. It was when I turned 29 that I got my first job after clearing a really difficult 8 years long course. Most of my twenties involved studying. I am enjoying my thirties. Hence I feel 22.