There are so many things that are in the eye of the beholder I am beginning to realise as I get older. For one, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, that is well known and I’ve talked about that a lot.

Second: music is in the ear of the beholder, that’s something new I’ve discovered and I stand by it. I may elaborate on this point soon.

Third is: age is in the eye of the beholder and that is what I shall be talking about today.

That is probably not the best way to phrase it but it’s the best I can come up with right now.

When I was below the age of fourteen I used to think sixteen was a big age. I would see the sixteen year olds at church and think, wow they really know life. They really have the answers that I am seeking.

I also thought they were so cool and looked at them with stars in my eyes.

Now imagine that’s how I looked at older teenagers, what about actual adults?

Man I thought people in their twenties were so old. I thought they were grown, grown. I thought when I reached that age I’d have my man already, a good job and would be looking to move in to my first house or apartment because we’d be modern.

It didn’t help that my aunties were married by the time they were twenty one and that was common in Rwanda so I really thought that would be me too.

I mean I did move to England but even in England, at church the same ideals persisted. People either got married young in their twenties or old in their fifties. There was no in-between and there still isn’t honestly. Although I am seeing more couples get married at thirty.

So as a pre-teen and even as an early teen… ok if I’m honest I thought this way till I reached seventeen. I thought twenty somethings had their lives together.

So going through my twenties and not “succeeding at life” left me very discouraged.

However, it’s funny because my own mother got married in her thirties and that was in Rwanda. She even had the same thoughts I had on marriage and I was like, “Huh, I wish adults would have said these things to me more when I was a child.”

So then seeing people talk about the thirties like you’ve reached grandma years makes me laugh. I mean sure in the olden days when people died between thirty and forty then yes, thirty was old. But with our “Improved” health and living conditions, with people living to one hundred, how is thirty old?

Honestly, if you look after yourself forty isn’t old and neither is fifty. One of my aunties is in her fifties and she looks amazing and is amazing. People rarely believe she is the age that she is.

Then there’s how you are on the inside. My mom always said she didn’t feel her age and now that I’m reaching my grandma years (lol) I see what she means.

I don’t feel old. I’m not old. I’m in my late twenties and I’m still me.

Yes, I know more than I did as a child and yes I have more responsibilities but the core of me is the same (resists urge to bring in a Bleach metaphor about blades and how they represent the core self of the welder).

So age really is just a number. Don’t let the world make you feel ancient when you’re not ancient.

The only time I think age matters to be honest is when you’re in your teens and when you’re a child. You’re still developing and you’re vulnerable and there are people who take advantage of that.

If a guy is into you when you’re barely legal it’s always creepy, even if they’re in their twenties. Same goes for woman who go after teenage boys.

I’ve been rewatching Desperate Housewives and I can’t stomach the Gaby storyline of season one… like he’s seventeen… ew!

Age also matters when you become vulnerable as an elderly person. I say it matters because if you’re sick and need someone to take care of you then you can’t ignore your age. However, some people manage to stay well right up until they die of old age. It’s a toss up really. I’ve seen both.

So yeah, those are my current views on age.

What do you think?