A sense of experience, of meaningful insight and of being able to advise, maturity is something we can acquire, achieve and acknowledge.

Based on the obvious passage of time, it’s a realtime individual process that can even affect the immediate collective, relative to the position and perspective each person has on their own life.

It can be either faster or slower, depending on intensity and exposure, but it’s surely accelerated when we start to/can face the perfect imperfections of our parents.

May they be a binomial father/mother or not, or instead a polinomial entity, we really start to mature when we understand their reality, their frailty existence and above all else, we can cope with their mistakes beyond their teachings (good or bad ones).

I am a member of a functional family. Privileged in the way it is the most unique family I know and still, a ubiquitous common one. Raised indistinctly by my mother and my father I was educated with a sense of freedom, autonomy and responsibility. Everything was dealt with respect and context and even contradictions were accepted, if only we could knew what that acceptance meant to be for me/us.

Later in life my maturity shaped a place inside my adulthood. My understanding of the educational figures around me started to endure my initial thoughts with imperfect perfections at the core of all the possible meanings they carry.

I too, should become that representation of endurance and evolution; to carry the values, principles and ethics beyond my words and decidedly phrase history with a branching family.

An ubiquitous and common one.