Maria Bushilo

Mother

Maturity I oftentimes wonder what kind of a person I will grow up to be. I am 25 years old, and I am way too young to say “I am a mature person”. In fact, I don’t know any person, regardless of how old or young they may be whom I would consider mature. Maturity seems illusive to me. The wisest of men (and women, of course) have downfalls. Not simply I think of immaturity as a flaw; sometimes I wonder if embracing the immaturity we all share is a key to life. Being mature seems to me to be the point after which the whole process turns into decay. There are other ways to look at maturity, I am sure; however different they are from mine doesn’t make mine less valid.