I’m a little young for that. But something is changing. Something is brewing and some growth is happening. I know your brain doesn’t truly start to function until 25 but for me I feel like 30 was the magic number. After 30 my mind was opened to the concept that I may not have anything new to say. I may not have a new idea or a grand scheme to help world hunger; but I still had a voice. And it’s ok to say that my voice may help others. Not because my thoughts are original but because I actually say them out loud.
There has been no greater comfort for me than to know I wasn’t alone in a feeling that I had. To know that I wasn’t weird or crazy. It is so freeing. It’s hard tho. It’s hard to say things, knowing you will be judged by others. It’s hard to know that you may lose the respect of others because the illusions of perfection was destroyed. It’s hard to face those childhood insecurities of not being cool enough, thin enough, rich enough, pretty enough, and loved enough. I’m not martyr. I am selfish and love the feeling of being true and genuine. But it still scares the crap out of me.