LIFE CALCULUS
Time May Not Be What You Think It Is
From old soul to perennial millennial, I’ve never been my age
I’ve been 42 all my life. I was middle-aged like my teachers when I was a kid. When my friends were five, eight, eleven, or sixteen, they’d say something [stupid] and I’d blurt out some version of “Oh, grow up!” Not out loud, of course. At 42, I knew better.
“Let’s play Barbies.”
“You know Barbies aren’t real, right?”
“I like watching cartoons on Saturday mornings.”
“So do I. Ironically.”
“Do you think Bobby from Chemistry class likes me?”
“No, he only likes himself. Don’t you see him checking himself out in that window?”
My biological age and perceived age didn’t match until I actually turned 42. And then ended when my body turned 43.
Today, I still don’t feel my age because though I inhabit a 61-year-old body, I’ve never stopped being 42. As a kid, I was an old soul. Then I reached middle age and stopped having birthdays.
I’m not the only one. Most of us don’t feel our age.