Who am I Kid-ding?

I thought I had just turned 23. Between then and now, I must have suffered from amnesia cos I can't quite remember celebrating the years in between. And now, as I tend towards the upper end of twenty, I begin to realise that years have flown past me with a bat of an eyelid.

I relish the feeling each time people think I'm still in my early 20s. Most of my NIE classmates are about 6 years younger than I am, but they can't tell the difference. They raise their eyebrows in surprise when they realise that I am born in the 70s, not the 80s, like them.

On my flight to Sydney, the flight stewardess asked if I was going back to Aussieland for studies. I smiled... In my T-shirt and jeans, I look very much like any other undergraduate.

I seem to be doing the things I have done before. I still play with my teddy bears, feel all so comfortable in my jeans and T-shirt, sing tunes from Animaniacs, and exercise more than I have ever done. So, discounting the two digits that change yearly, what else has changed? Sure, the skin on the face is not as plump, injuries take longer to heal, I get sleepy more easily, and parties are no longer jumping up and down to the beat of some strange music.

I had a talk with a few of my close friends one night, and we all agree that we have to admit it sometimes - we have aged. We are all growing older. We don't have the energy that we used to have. In short, we have mellowed down. And the tiredness can be seen in our eyes. They don't sparkle with enthusiasm like they did before. Instead, the eyes now speak of the language of "I have been there, and done that." And I ask myself, "What next?"

I tell my NIE classmates to enjoy their youth while they can. I tell them the body naturally begin to age when they reach my age. For a moment, I feel like some age-old guru. It's scary to note that I have decades of my life more to experience.

And so there exists a tension of feeling old, yet young at the same time. Looking back, I tell myself - Wow, I have travelled that much. But looking ahead, I ask myself - there is so much more to go? It is as if I am waving goodbye to youthhood, and saying hello to adulthood. Is this what some call the "quarter-life crisis"?

As I continue with life, I picture myself taking one step at a time. On one hand, I wish the hands of the time do not move, that I be young forever. On the other, I wish it to move faster, so that I can experience the richness that life has to offer. I approach life with a mixed feeling of fear, anticipation and excitement. I wonder what life has in store for me, yet on the other hand, I try to control what I want life to present to me.

And so with valuable experiences in tow, and new challenges ahead I have to overcome, I have to admit defeat. Much as I look young, and act young, and try to deny the fact that age is but a number, I am no longer a kid who can live life anyway she wants without a care in the world.

I figured it out - age is not just a number. It is telling you that you are growing up more and more each day into a unique individual.

I am no longer a kid. I should stop kidding myself.