I am 37, and this is all such truth.
Thirty eight is solidly in the middle of my life. Thirty eight is realizing that there are likely as many years behind me as there are ahead. It is acknowledging that life is no longer a green field, that certain doors are closed, that some choices are irrevocable, and that many of the big what-ifs that haunted my childhood have been answered. Thirty eight is also realizing that despite these answers, there are far, far more new questions.
If you are not yet 38, come back to this. Or write your own. If you are past, let me know what’s to come. Or maybe let it be a surprise. I’m still coming to terms with this part of my life.
Love this one as well: Things you do when you are an adult.