Shifting Perspectives Of Growing Up

The other day, my nephew—now 28—laughed and said, “मासी, मुझे तो लगता है कि मेरी अभी ही उम्र हो गई है.”
I laughed, because at his age, I too believed I was already old enough. That single remark took me back to all the times I was convinced I had grown up—long before I truly had.

The notion of growing up is truly fascinating—and funny—if you really think about it.

Feeling Old Enough Too Soon

Being the eldest sibling among four of us, I was always old enough to be more sensible than my younger siblings. Even when I was just a child, responsibility came naturally—or was expected of me.

If I recall correctly, it was first at the age of nine that we had to decide which extra classes to take and how to expand our horizons of learning. I believed I was grown up and capable of deciding what I wanted to learn—be it a new language, music, or dance.

At twelve, I went to watch a movie in a theatre alone and considered myself independent enough to enjoy a film of my choice without an accompanying adult. By fourteen, I thought I had grown up enough to travel without an escort—and travel I did, with my younger siblings and a 20-month-old cousin, to another town by train. I felt completely in charge of my life.

It is funny to think how in control I felt back then. I felt completely in charge of my life, unaware that this sense of control came from innocence rather than certainty, and confidence rather than experience.

Years of Validation

At eighteen, I was convinced I was mature enough to independently choose my career, despite the advice of elders. By twenty-two, I deemed myself old enough to get married and earn a living. At twenty-five, I felt prepared to start a family and support a life.

At each of these stages, I considered myself grown up—ready to take on new roles, responsibilities, and challenges. I remember, to the great amusement of a friend, telling her, “Oh, I am already 28 and I have achieved nothing much in life.”

At every stage, I was trying to prove my sensibility, my worth, and my zeal. I realise now that, for me, the idea of growing up was tied up with achievements and approvals. With rewards and validations.

Years of Discovery

However, a shift in this mindset occurred as I neared forty. That was when I realised the way I truly wanted to live my life—exploring the inner journey rather than measuring milestones.

This was also when my girls were old enough to share a laugh with me and found me cool enough to go shopping together. It was then that I fully realised how young enough I actually was—young enough to learn new tricks, young enough to make mistakes, young enough to dress as I want, to run and dance.

I was young enough to wonder, young enough to be curious, and young enough to find new meaning— rediscovering myself through travel and introspection.

Growing Old, Growing Freer and Younger

As I enter my 50s, this lightness feels earned rather than accidental, shaped by years of living, failing, learning, and letting go.I am delighted by the fact that I am still young enough to have a carefree spirit—young enough to laugh and giggle, relish senseless talks, watch faltu movies, and spend careless nights with friends.

As I age, I realise I am young enough to try new adventures, young enough to trek the Himalayas. I am confident that this sense of young enoughness will grow as I age—allowing me to try new things, learn new skills, embrace life in its fullest form, and start afresh at every juncture.

Perhaps growing old is not about leaving youth behind. Perhaps it is about finally understanding what youthfulness truly is—in spirit.

In our early years, we rush to grow up, eager to claim independence and certainty. As life happens, it softens us and humbles us, teaching us that true maturity lies in curiosity and playfulness and embracing diverse perspectives on identity.
Maybe, as we grow old, we earn the wisdom to simply be—to live in the moment, with less fear of failure, less urgency to prove anything, and more acceptance.

We spend our youth trying to grow up, only to learn later that the real gift of age is feeling young enough to begin again.

So yes, I believe feeling young is very much a part of growing old. Age, I have learned, does not move in a straight line. It circles back, bringing us to parts of ourselves we once rushed past. What changes is not our age, but our relationship with it.
I would love to know what ‘the young’ and ‘the old’ think about this.