During my late twenties I told anyone who asked my age that I was in my mid twenties.
I hated turning 30. I couldn’t even bring myself to say the word “thirty” and the first card I got with the number 3-0 on it, I threw in the bin.
You see I had always wanted to be married by 25 and to have started a family by 30. I was so far from either of these things that when I turned 30 I wanted to skip the whole occasion and pretend it never existed.
Now I regularly say to anyone who asks how old I am, “how old do you think I am?” When they reply with 25 or 27, my response is “pretty close”. Then I change the subject.
I’m in denial, but it’s bliss.
