For most of my life I’ve been told that I’m older then I actually look. When I was fourteen I got told that I looked seventeen. When I was fifteen I got eighteen. So on and so forth. Rally it became one of my good features. To look older then I actually am and it got me into some interesting situations. Mostly just with guys taking an interest but nothing too crazy. For the most part it was just random and it seemed to happen a lot. I just wasn’t interested in those who took a second glance. 

When I turned eighteen though it took a turn. I started coloring my hair more often and I found my own style of clothes. From time to time though I do wear very simplistic things that make me look like I’m a tomboy. From there it can be difficult to tell how old I am. I remember one day specifically. I was in Walmart buying my cell phone card. That day I had decided to go to my local Walmart in flip-flops, shorts that I used for sleeping, a baggy shirt and had my hair in a bun. Wallet in one hand and phone in the other and I waited patiently for my turn. I happened to have dyed my hair blue and I was off for the day. So of course I decided lazy day was in order. I just didn’t want to get dressed up for a trip to freaking Walmart, of all places. I don’t care how I look, I’m here to shop and then go home. No hassle, no extra time spent, just me in my lazy day clothes doing my errand for the day. 

While I’m waiting in line this older man takes a turn in his spot and looks around the store. His eyes land on me and he sits and stares for a solid thirty seconds. Nodding slightly to himself he then turns around and steps a single step forward and stops. There were a few other people in front of him so we both knew it was gonna be a little bit longer. Dismissing that solid thirty second look I go to unlock my phone when he suddenly turns around and smiles slightly. I can see the question in his eyes. "Do your parents allow you to dye your hair?" I stared at him confused by the question. It was random and being an adult it seemed out of place. So of course with the nicest tone of voice I could muster I asked "My hair?" he smiles a little more and I can tell that I’ve made him confused. "Yes, its blue. Do your parents allow that?". I almost took a look around me right then and there to see if this guy was really talking to me. Like what is happening at this moment? He takes a breath in and then asks "Aren’t you twelve? You look Twelve?" There was a solid minute of shock the second that sentence came out of his mouth. I looked twelve? 

This poor old guy was so lost by my reaction that he nervously laughs and leans towards me with his arms behind his back and a look of concern on his face, "My grand-kids dye their hair and there twelve and thirteen.....How old are you?". I almost bust out laughing at this. Like I was really in this moment. I laugh nervously and answer back "No, I’m eighteen". The shock on his face was surreal. If he looked harder at me it was obvious that I had tattoos and piercings that a twelve year old should not have. Not only that but, I had car keys in my hand and a credit card. I earned the right to have both of those and one is the power to go where I want, when I want and a card with my hard earned money on it so I can spend it at my own leisure. No twelve year old will have that unless if it’s under rich or rare circumstances. The old man shakes his head at me and says "I am so sorry" and turns around and proceeds to head up to the counter laughing nervously the whole way. Me? I’m just trying to shake it off and take it as a compliment because hey, maybe I will look twenty five at seventy. Good luck to me I guess. 

In honesty though I do feel like this happens a lot and maybe it’s a sign our genetics are getting better and that there are things that work to keep up looking youthful out there in the world. Maybe its luck? Who knows. All I know is that it happened and its ok. Sometimes I look twelve, sometimes I look twenty five. Luck of the draw on certain days.