Age is an extremely relative topic. It’s just a number, and yet it is interpreted as a measure of maturity. Age is not maturity, just as maturity is not age. And even after that distinction, “being mature” is not just a simple blanket term, you have the capacity to take certain things in a more mature way than others.

Not to come off as arrogant, but look at me. I lost my mother when I was in fourth grade, the victim of a disease that has no cure. Before that, my parents had been divorced for two or three years. Sans a month or two, I had lived solely with my father, who was, on an average day, not around physically or emotionally. Needless to say, I learned relatively quickly how to handle being alone, and how to take care of myself and my own best interests. Now, some could say that has made me mature beyond my years…I’ve heard it many a time before. And yet, I have a difficult time handling myself “maturely” in relationships. I’m not “mature” dealing with certain types of people or social situations. And I’m definitely not mature when it comes to disclosing my thoughts and emotions to others, on the rare occasion I might actually share such feelings.

Does that mean I’m actually an aged and jaded adult, and not a teenager? No.

Does that mean then that I’m not actually “mature?” Of course not.

Judge people for how they act and who they are, not their labels or measure of years passed.