Today’s writing prompt from The Daily Post asks if age is a number I care about.
I am pleased to say that I am not too concerned about my age as a whole. My philosophy is, as long as I don’t look my age–or older–I’m OK.
I don’t care about how old my friends are, either. As I like to say, “I am not an ageist.” My primary concern is that I surround myself with people who are fun, caring, excellent conversationalists, kind, and enjoy doing similar activities to myself. I don’t care if you are 20, 40, 60–whatever, it’s cool. I just like good people.
The same goes for romantic relationships. I’ve had experiences dating both younger and (much) older men. In my experience, maturity cannot be determined by age. The older man I was involved years ago with was immature–partying like a college student when he was 40; yet a man 20 years younger than him was more composed and settled.
The difficulty I find with accepting my age is the awkward stage I find myself in. At 33, singe, never married, and no children, I find myself struggling to not be the only non-married, non-in-a-relationship person in social situations. It would be nice to have other single people at said events.
And when it comes to dating… there aren’t a lot of single men in their 30s and 40s that want to have kids. The past few men I’ve been out with (in their 40s) had either already had children and didn’t want any more, or didn’t want them in the first place. I haven’t given up hope that I’ll be a mom someday. Loving husband, little ones running around, a house with a white picket fence… it could happen. Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t happen!
It does get difficult though to look younger than I actually am. I’m not trying to sound whiny here–it’s not a horrible problem to have. But I do find my dating tendencies of late tend to move toward younger men. At work, I am still mistaken for a college student by other staff and faculty members. However, the students look at me with suspicion… as in, she’s too old to be one of us, but too young to be working here. I can feel their gaze on me, summing me up.
I guess this was a long-winded way of me stating my thoughts on age. It’s ironic, because this is something that has been on my mind as of late. I can’t worry about my age much. At the end of the day, I’m still just glad to be here. I look forward to seeing what the next 33 years brings me.