Jennifer Plesko

When I was in high school, I hated the fact that people treated me like I was a child and I didn’t know anything. In college, I was still considered young, but people seemed to listen to me a little more and might have even thought I knew what I was talking about. Sometimes.

After college, I promptly bought a house and got married, so I was an adult, right? But for several years, I was still largely treated as if I were basically a college student. I still lived in a college town where employers pay college grads just as poorly as college students, because hey, these twenty-somethings are a dime a dozen. If they don’t like being paid with the change I found in my couch cushions, I know where I can find some more poor schmucks who do.

By the time I was 27, I started to feel like I was far enough beyond college that I was gaining ground professionally. I had the elusive “five years experience” and there were actually people being hired under me and everything. But since I still looked 23, and I’m a girl, there were still some people who had a hard time believing I knew what I was doing, so I had to work hard to prove myself.

When I moved from my hometown to the big city at 28, I hoped I would finally be taken seriously and not seen as a child. Well, it seems I have now gotten my wish. I have a great job that I’m good at with my very own team. But now? I’m over the hill. Apparently.

I’ve dealt with the “why-don’t-you-have-children-OMG-you-fail-as-a-woman-now-you’re-too-old” crap for a few years now. I get that I married rather young, but I didn’t realize people would expect my ovaries to shrivel up like raisins the second I hit 29. Life does not always go as planned, my friends. How about minding your own beeswax, mmkay?

Just last week someone noticed my wedding ring for the first time and exclaimed “You’re getting married??” When I pointed out that I’d actually been married for seven years, he said “Oh, I thought you were young.”

On my last birthday, I had to show my driver’s license several times to prove that I was, in fact, turning 30 because “wow, that’s old. I can’t believe you were born in the 70s.” I suppose it’s better than people thinking I’m older, but still.

So here’s my question: when was I the right age? How did I go from too young to too old and where was I when the change took place? For the first time in a long time, I’m taking care of myself, so I actually feel younger than I have in years. And I have learned more in the last five years than I learned in the 25 years prior. Does that make me old? Don’t I still have a good 50-60 years left in me? If I’m old now, will I be ancient at 40? Decrepit at 50? Senile at 60?

Do men have this problem too?