What Age is Your Favorite?

Yesterday I was sitting around with my family and someone brought up how they wished they were 18 again. Personally, I hated being 18. No one took you seriously. If you tried to tell someone what you thought, you were looked at as if you were a troublesome kid. No matter how complex your ideas or feelings, people didn’t give a flying crap.

If you messed up, someone invariably sneered that you had some growing up to do or that you weren’t yet mature enough or some other banality.

The age I probably liked best was 27-30. You were taken seriously, you never had to much worry about what you ate,Β and you were still in the peak of good health. Gravity be damned!

One day you may get me oh wrinkle bot, but not today. Oh no, not today!

Today I will shove another Twinkie in my pie-hole and enjoy the sweet creamy filling!

So what is your favorite age and why?

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17 Comments

  1. I was going to go on about how my 50s were my favorite age, for various reasons–then I realized that while they were the most productive and busiest, right now, at nearly 70, Im probably more comfortable than Ive ever been.
    Im older than all the cops, doctors, most lawyers. Authority figures do not intimidate me, since I now have seniority. I respect what they do, and it shows, but I’m not reluctant to argue back if I feel its valid.

    I still have my health, for the most part; most of my teeth, most of what I want to remember most of the time, and I’ve learned to stop fussing over what cant be changed, done away with, or avoided. It’s nice to have been 50, and have the memories of that decade, but right now is pretty cool too

  2. I’m enjoying 37. Certain things don’t matter so much anymore. I no longer feel the need to look any particular way- or to torture myself to get there.
    I don’t have anything to prove anymore. I’ve realized the greener grass notion is a delusion. Everyone has their troubles. Have you ever read Far from the Tree?

    “I wish I’d been accepted sooner and better. When I was younger, not being accepted made me enraged, but now, I am not inclined to dismantle my history. If you banish the dragons, you banish the heroes–and we become attached to the heroic strain in our personal history. We choose our own lives. It is not simply that we decide on the behaviors that construct our experience; when given our druthers, we elect to be ourselves. Most of us would like to be more successful or more beautiful or wealthier, and most people endure episodes of low self-esteem or even self-hatred. We despair a hundred times a day. But we retain the startling evolutionary imperative for the fact of ourselves, and with that splinter of grandiosity we redeem our flaws.”

    And that is what age is for me. I finally elect to be myself.

    • You nailed it, Jewels. It’s appreciating where we are right now, and learning to live in the skin we’re in. When I look back at most of my growing up stuff, it was dreadful. I’d not go back for any money.

      On graduation night we had the mandatory receiving line, and one woman went through, shook hands, kissed the boys, and said to each of us, “Enjoy this, you’ll never be this happy again…”
      and my first thought was, if this is as good as it gets we all might as well go home and drink poison…

      • Thanks Judy. I feel more comfortable in my own skin than I ever have. Sure, I miss parts of youth, and have had some wonderful times, but I’d never want to go back. I prefer moving forward. My sister and I have a running joke whenever I’m driving how I hate backtracking. However, I’m also careful not to look too far into the future either because that too can be a trap. I find it’s best for me to just be in the present moment.
        That woman obviously wasn’t very happy with how her life turned out, hopefully she was just going through a rough patch and found happiness in the end. Bet you’re glad you didn’t drink that poison. πŸ˜‰

        • That was my thought too. I think though that if we refuse to admit we even HAD a past, good or bad, (and a LOT of people are very dismissive about the process of remembering) we are pretty much denying ourselves all those experiences that make us right now. All we have, is memory. We don’t have a future, only the possiblity. The Now is, as George Carlin said, fleeting, here and gone.

          Who we were determines who we are now, for whatever reason.

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