Sorry, I wasn’t able to update due to the lousy internet connection.
Anyway, a few days ago, I went to the mall, and a guy was handing out a flyer for a house. As always, I rejected the paper from him. When I was walking away, he called me and told me he had just one question to ask. He said, “Are you over 21?”
I instinctively replied no. When I turned my back, I can’t help but laugh. Me? 21? Wow, I must have looked old to be 21. What bothered me was that I thought I looked young. I wore a pair of jeans and a yellow shirt. Despite my lack of fashion sense, a lot of people say I have a baby face 😉
Currently, I am 17 years old. He could have mistaken me to be 18, but 21? Wow!
I am the youngest among my peers, therefore I had developed this complex about my age. I sometimes wished to be older, to be more mature, but when that man asked me if I’m 21, I was bothered. What did I look like to be mistaken by such a huge number. Did I look old despite my age?
When he asked that, my whole perspective on age turned 180 degrees, I have always wanted to appear older, but I realized a lot after that.
See, age in not just a number. Attached to the number is the whole stereotypical package. For example, when you find out a child is around 4, you would be using a high pitch voice and asking “Hi? How are you? How old are you? Do you go to school?” with a huge grin on you face.
But if you find out someone is 40, the conversation would be something like “So, are you working right now? Where? What do you think about the 2012 elections?”
When speaking to someone older, there is reservation of words and respect, while speaking to someone of the same age knows no limitation.
The way people treat a person is different just by knowing this number. Stereotypes arise, and limitations are set.
For now, I’ll enjoy being 17, and maybe wear clothes befitting my age.