Compare and Contrast

I know there are others who might envy my life. I have a publishing deal. I work for a record company. I have a deliciously incredible fiancé who lights up my face. I have parents who are still married and are still in love. I have enough of everything I could ever want or need.
But.
Lately I see women my age (or younger!) who have achieved things I can’t imagine. Who seem like true adults. You know, that image of “adult” that you created as a child. My image is a woman in a blue business suit with a white blouse who uses big girl words and is never silly or trite. She can cook fancy meals that I can’t even spell, knows how to get her car fixed when it breaks down, uses complete sentences when she writes intelligent exposes and never ever leaves the house without lipstick. If she’s unmarried, she would date a man, not a boy. She would dine, not drive-thru. She would relax, not hang out.
The other day I came across just such a woman. Someone successful and classy and able. Someone who can command a room full of adults and still look smart and savvy. Someone younger than me. It made me feel immature and small. Seems like I always thought that in order to be a true grown-up, I would need to be wearing the suit and have the lipstick and know how to “unwind”.
I guess maybe I’ll never grow up. Because I like to laugh and be silly. I like to hang out and drive-thru. I don’t own any lipstick. I like to wear flip-flops every…single…day. I don’t own a business suit. I don’t know how to cook coq au vin.
But I can make crusted honey mustard chicken. I can speak French. I can touch my tongue to the tip of my nose. Does that count?