Today is my birthday. I’m 26 years old today — but I look much younger. With my big, brown eyes and round cheeks, people who don’t know me often mistake me for being in my early 20s or even in my teens. (It probably doesn’t help matters that my maturity hovers around the “Yo Gabba Gabba!” level at times.) Looking younger than my actual age is both a blessing and a curse. It is difficult, as a young-looking woman, to be taken seriously by older people when I discuss politics, society or culture. I’m not going to complain about being told that I “look so young,” though, when the latter is meant as a compliment. Who doesn’t enjoy compliments?
But I’ll admit I feel weird accepting those compliments sometimes. Why should I be flattered that I look young? Keep reading »