WE WALK BOTH WORLDS

Whether it’s through the office new hire or friends celebrating birthdays, I seem to be reminded of my age a lot these days. 20-something. And most of the time, I really don’t feel like I embody the number. Sometimes I’m older. A lot of times, I feel much younger.

No, I’m not in want of some physical attributes (my boobs and height are fine, thank you). It’s just that, every now and then, I still feel like I’m a college kid – or a fresh grad, at the most: I’ve lost count of the times I’ve asked myself, panic-stricken, “What am I doing here?!" Only I now have bills and I use my own money to pay them. And I have this job where I actually need to get things done to get paid.

Till now, I enjoy what I did when I was younger: casting spells with “wands,” spoofing Gollum, A Walk to Remember, Backstreet Boys and Disney. My Facebook likes and posts are of things that college kids would also find interesting. My closet still has a few shirts with cartoons splattered all over the front, and going to work in office clothes sometimes feels like playing dress up. Not to mention that I am still occasionally clumsy and trip on covers of manholes.


At this age, my mom already had me. Yet here I am with my biggest concerns being what I will have for lunch tomorrow, my next work deadline, and if I’ll have enough clean clothes to last me till the end of the week. (Note: I am not mourning my lack of a husband and child. Lara Croft’s this really amazing girl and she’s perpetually single. Who am I to complain?)

On the flipside, the years since graduation have been educational. With my own stuff and my friends’ equally colorful lives, I know that I’m not as innocent as I was years ago. More and more, I find myself being able to identify with shows like Friends, and movies like Eat, Pray, Love and One More Chance.

I have left and have been left behind. I have compromised and have asserted my right to not settle. I have felt so spent and have regathered myself several times, enforcing the lesson that validation is not what I should be working for in life. Hard choices are a staple in my life and these take away any hope for childish naivete.

In the midst of the schizophrenia, luckily, I have met lovely people who are ideal adults at first glance: mature, responsible and accomplished, but seem to live secret lives away from their offspring and in-laws. They have flawless execution of pranks and some are bigger dorks than I am. They commit the same mistakes people younger than them do. Most are just trying to figure out life, too.

Hands down, they’re some of the coolest people I have ever met. They switch from being grown-ups to being awkward adolescents better than anyone I know -- fictional or not.

And so I came to realize that maybe my split personality isn’t a sign of immaturity after all. I’m starting to think that “acting your age” is really an averaging thing: the times you’re too young offset the times you’re too old, and they meet in the middle where your actual age is waiting for you to claim it.

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