{"id":2475,"date":"2006-04-01T04:04:15","date_gmt":"2006-04-01T04:04:15","guid":{"rendered":""},"modified":"2006-09-27T22:09:41","modified_gmt":"2006-09-27T22:09:41","slug":"Forever-Young","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/?p=2475","title":{"rendered":"Forever Young"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>In a society that values youthfulness, I have learned, however, that having a youthful look is not always rewarding. Sure, I reaped some benefits when I was younger. I passed for a 12 &#8211; \u201cyear old for several years, which gave me discounts to buffets (although, I feel a little guilty about this now). I could shop at the young girl&#8217;s department, which sold cheaper clothes (mind you, I don&#8217;t do this anymore.) <\/p>\n<div class=\"pullquote\">\n<div class=\"pullquoteTop\">\n<blockquote><p>In retrospect, I&#8217;m not sure why I didn&#8217;t snap at him, but I was in a good mood and wanted the drink and souvenir mug badly. <\/p><\/blockquote>\n<div class=\"pullquoteAttribute\">Emily Peng<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>But as I got older, I started to blame my lack of growth and baby face features on my Asian heritage. Somehow I thought that I would be problem &#8211; \u201cfree in the appearance department if I were white. I thought, if I were white, I would have longer legs and larger breasts. It was also a matter of convenience. Jeans frequently needed to be hemmed and most clothes did not fit well for my petite stature. <\/p>\n<p>At the age of 21 today, I still look exactly like I did in high school, with the addition of ten pounds. And looking this way only meant that I had to vindicate my age whenever I wanted to drink at a bar. <\/p>\n<p>The suspicions of my age became more apparent when I went to Las Vegas this past holiday vacation with my family. <\/p>\n<p>I was in Paris Las Vegas and I was particularly drawn to the drinks sold in large, colorful hot air balloon &#8211; \u201cshaped mugs. Without feeling threatened by the vendor, I approached him. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t look 21,&#8221; he said in a doubtful tone. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Actually, I am,&#8221; I responded unconvincingly. Like an FBI agent whipping out her badge, I proved it to him with my driver&#8217;s license. <\/p>\n<p>Besides, if I were really in France &#8211; \u201das I am believed to be, for sake of argument &#8211; \u201dwhere the drinking age is 16 (or practically nonexistent), I would not have been interrogated. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;What, as of yesterday?&#8221; he barely glanced at my license and waited for my next defense. <\/p>\n<p>I smiled and said, No, since August (goodness, that was so long ago!). In retrospect, I&#8217;m not sure why I didn&#8217;t snap at him, but I was in a good mood and wanted the drink and souvenir mug badly. <\/p>\n<p>Getting the drink was one thing, but walking around with it was another. First of all, the mug was heavy. I had to switch hands every so often. Second, I got the occasional stare. <\/p>\n<p>At first I took this as a sign of envy. Others wanted my mug and maybe were wondering where I bought it. But then a man walking with his wife kept turning around, looking first at me, then my mug. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;How old are you?&#8221; he finally asked. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Twenty &#8211; \u201cone.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Okay,&#8221; he replied almost disappointingly, as if saying I was younger would have made a better follow &#8211; \u201cup. <\/p>\n<p>As I drank, I doubted that the vendor put any alcohol into my drink because I started to analyze the consequences of looking younger instead of putting the whole manner aside. <\/p>\n<p>If a valid driver&#8217;s license wasn&#8217;t enough for me to defend myself at a bar, how many other people were passing me off as a young 15 &#8211; \u201cyear old? When first impressions last a mere few seconds to the onlooker, my youthful features alone might judge my character before my personality can get a chance. It may seem like a vanity issue to discuss such a petty problem, but I became concerned about how less seriously people would treat me based on my youthful appearance. <\/p>\n<p>It turns out that I don&#8217;t really know the answers to these questions or even have much control over how people judge my appearances anyway. <\/p>\n<p>I started to think about these questions again when I flipped through the pictures from the trip. A picture of my whole family made me realize the youthful symmetry of all of us. We were all of similar height and built. My brother, in his mid &#8211; \u201c20s, still looked a few years younger. My parents, who are in their fifties, still have a full head of black hair and few wrinkles. Appearances aside, as a family we act young and goofy as well. <\/p>\n<p>Here I was coveting the older features of my counterparts, thinking that my life would be better if I looked a certain way. Rather, I should appreciate how truly great it is to both feel and look young, regardless of my age. <\/p>\n<p>I may still be brushed off as a high school student several more times in life but, at least when I&#8217;m older, I won&#8217;t have to lie about being younger than I am! <\/p>\n<p><em>Emily Peng is a senior at University of Delaware.<\/em> <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>In a society that values youthfulness, I have learned, however, that having a youthful look is not always rewarding. 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