A realization that I’m only twenty-three. I know, who cares that I’m young, shut up and grow up. I know, but honestly I am grown up. I can’t friggin believe I’m 23. I feel like I’m thirty. I compare myself to thirty year olds on a constant basis. I feel like I should be accomplishing more, on a regular basis. But having experience to actually be equal or rival a thirty something year old, just isn’t possible. You just can’t squeeze in the same amount of experiences, no matter how much you try (on purpose or not).
And I should just be happy with the things that I have accomplished as a 23 year old. I am a single mom of two amazing kids, I have completed two years of college (no degree yet though), I am a Certified Nursing Assistant in Kentucky. I’m also a relatively exceptional cook, decent hobbist (hobbier? Hobby doing person?), passionate reader, and now (thanks to this blog) writer.
I wonder if anyone else has had the same kind of relization. That oh hey, I’m this age and I’m amazing! It maybe that you’re older than you believe (like my mom) or younger than you believe (like me and my sister).
I’d love to hear from you all about your views and opinions..