The Late Bloomer

My mom describes me as a late bloomer. Every stage of development happens to me a few years after it was supposed to happen. And I can't help but think that's true. I mean, honestly, my awkward phase lasted for 6 years! Until the age of 17, I looked like a monkey that the cat dragged in. A more appropriate euphemism would perhaps be 'The Ugly Duckling'. Now, I'm not saying I became a beautiful swan; but you could say that I'm a cute little duck. I attribute my lack of flirting skills to late blooming as well. I'm a flower that instead of shying away, jumps around and does a jig, while still in  the bud, creeping the hell out of everyone. I'm approaching 21 at breakneck speed and I wonder, is it possible to bloom too late? I feel like an anomaly in a world filled with people who know where they are going and what they are doing and here I am, questioning every decision I make-ranging from the clothes I choose for the day to what I want to do with my life. Continuing with my metaphor, what if by the time I bloom, I miss my chance because I was too late. I'm never late for anything, but what if I'm late for what counts the most?