When I was 6, I was this silent girl who loves dolls, her mini kitchenware, talking to the walls, instead of punching a bully, sobbing all night.
When I was 16, I loved painting, sketching, and was a big time studious, was much confident, represented my class. But I was this most sensitive person, I would punch a bully just because I think he bullied me. Now when I think back, probably I used to overreact.
Now that I am turning 26, I am panicking, as if I am getting too old. Worried I should earn more and more, learn all the hobbies I had, like sewing, glass painting, blah blah, because I couldn’t do them before. But yeah! My life’s good, except for I am putting on some unwanted weight and struggling to get rid of it.
When I think of being 36, I think I would have a loving husband, a kid or two, be a cool mom, continue to have the job I have now, probably have HUGE fan following on my blogs, write a book, and yeah lose some weight. And yes! Have a vacation in Paris 🙂
At the moment I can’t imagine being 46, so probably when I turn 36, I can decide 🙂