There is a time in every woman's life when she realizes that she is her mother's age when her mother had her. For instance, this year, I am 24. My mother had me at 24. I am my mother's age (and my mother would not be happy I'm revealing her age).
Of course, I have no children. I have no husband. No white picket fence. Not even a date on Friday night. Which, for me, is what I want (well, a date on Friday night wouldn't be all that bad). I just imagined my mother, who at 24 was "old", and having her first child. I know that I couldn't do it and I admire her, and my father, for putting up with me as a kid and now.
So, what do I have to show for myself? I have a college degree and working on two graduate degrees at once. I have lived away from home since the age of 17 and love its ups and downs. I have a bright future that, someday, may involve a husband and kids. So, am I really far behind my mother? I don't like to think of it that way - rather I have taken a different path. We all reach the same destination of happiness and personal fulfillment, hopefully. My journey has just taken me 3000 miles away from my home but my mother's journey took her halfway across the globe.