22 Going on 13: Ain’t so bad after all.

More often than not, I am mistaken as the younger sibling when I’m with my brother. In reality, he wasn’t even a fetus when I was already an English-speaking two-year-old. Sure, my messy bun, 5″5′ stature, and love for hoodies have stayed fairly consistent since I was in 7th grade.  But my mind has done several 360’s towards the land of maturity since my middle school days. Older adults say I should be grateful for my youthful genes, but sometimes it’d be nice to be mistaken for a 25-year-old instead of a high school senior.

Low and behold, in the midst of my mid-March crisis and a Googling of “young professional hairstyles,” I discovered  that my agelessness may reflect my ability to live a longer life! Behold, the power of the baby face. Guess I won’t scrap the hoodies yet.

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