"At the age of 16 I was already dreaming of having a baby because I felt myself to be an adult, but my mum forbid it. Right now, I feel like a teenager and I want to have fun for one or two more years before starting a family"

A voice that flips expectations about age and readiness emerges here. At sixteen, the speaker felt fully grown and longed for the responsibility of motherhood, but parental authority intervened. Now, with real autonomy, she experiences herself as more adolescent and prefers to prioritize enjoyment and exploration before committing to family life. The reversal underscores how maturity is fluid, not a fixed milestone tied to birthdays or legal status.

The early yearning for a baby can reflect a search for identity and stability, a desire to claim adult status through one of its most consequential roles. It may also point to how adolescents can equate independence with immediately taking on adult responsibilities, without yet grasping their long-term weight. The mother’s prohibition functions as a protective boundary, a reminder that society often relies on caretakers to slow down decisions until the individual’s perspective broadens.

Later, the shift to savoring youthful freedom shows a deepened self-knowledge. With experience comes an understanding that timing matters and that adulthood is richer when chosen, not merely performed. Wanting “one or two more years” suggests an intentional window: fun is not a rejection of responsibility but a phase worth honoring before new commitments arrive. It reframes freedom as the capacity to defer, to prepare, to ensure that life events align with personal readiness.

The tension between inner age and chronological age animates the statement. Feeling adult at sixteen and teenage at an older age exposes how identity evolves, sometimes counter to social scripts. It also hints at the pressure, especially on women, to synchronize career, desire, and fertility within narrow timelines. The sentiment resists that pressure by asserting agency over pace and sequence. Ultimately, it celebrates the right to define adulthood on one’s own terms, acknowledging that growth often means pausing, not rushing, toward the future.