I’m HOW old?

Today’s Daily Post prompt asked us to write about age – I won’t duplicate the post here, you can check it out yourself if you’re interested here.

I read a few of the posts in response to the prompt and enjoyed those perspectives, but none of them really said what I was thinking, what I guess I’ve been thinking about age for some time.

It isn’t that I dwell on age, I don’t.  Certain ages I have been stand out in my memory but overall I just go through each day, trying to focus on the present.  I remember 35 being a particularly bad year.  I was still mired in a disintegrating marriage and couldn’t see any way out.  But I survived that.  Hell, I survived much worse.  Forty was probably one of my best years – I’d lost a lot of weight, was the smallest I’d ever been as an adult and I was single again.  I was solely responsible for my happiness and it was glorious!

So when I really think about it at all it’s to ask myself, “Why don’t I feel older?”  Seriously.  For example, I’ll be 58 this year, but whenever I’m faced with making a decision that’s harder than what to have for dinner or what to wear to work, I feel like I’m in high school trying to decide my life’s course.  When I was a kid I was SURE that when I grew up I’d know what to do, where to go, what choices to make, how to live.  Forty some odd years later I’m still waiting for that certainty.

Sure, I understand some things better as an adult than the child did, but I still don’t have a lot of trust in all my decisions.  And some of them have been so very bad!  The consequences of those poor choices have chipped away at my self-confidence.  The ripples affect all aspects of my life.  Do I throw my hat in for the lead secretary position?  Or will I just screw that up?  Should I update my resume and look for a better job?  Maybe I should go back to school.

I know most people face these types of choices.  Do they also feel like they’re still little kids, pretending to be grown-ups?

Or is that just me?

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