At 40, I am convinced that we cosplay as adult characters to hide our inner child, mostly from ourselves. Some seem to allow the stresses of life and responsibilities to make the mask indistinguishable, but I doubt any truly make it real. Do you wear the mask of age over the eyes of your inner child? Does age hold a meaningful value to you beyond the comradery of shared experience?
I feel like I’m less mature than people treat me. I also recognize that I look on my maturity in the past with rose colored glasses.