You’re only as old as you feel. I feel 16. I feel like I’m the same kid that stargazed in the snow on the side of a mountain with her best friend, until midnight, with a Yamaha Venture running board for a pillow and a husky-sheppard mix keeping watch.
Today I turned 30 years old. For a time I thought that today would be depressing. A major turning point. The point of comparison; me vs. the married with offspring.
I was wrong.
I feel today like I did yesterday, and the day before, and every day leading up to today. Age is just a number, and comparing your journey to another’s is completely arse-farmas as my pop would say. (It means backwards)