Broodings of the Elderly
Monumental waste of time as it may be, I've spent the last few weeks dreading my upcoming birthday. The big "3-0" is just around the corner, and reminders seem to be everywhere. I got a notice from my health insurance provider, reminding me that "as per your contract, higher rates will be applicable as of" my 30th birthday. Gray hair number 3 reared it's ugly, wiry, blindingly white head the other day, and maybe it's imagined, but the wrinkles around my eyes seem to be lingering longer as of, well, lately.
When John asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday, I very childishly responded "nothing... I'd rather forget it." I'm not really into the whole party-for-me-thing anyway, but I was even more turned off by the idea of celebrating what I've always envisioned as the end of my youth. "What is your deal with 30?" he asked. Hmmm... what is the deal with 30?
So I started thinking about the passing from my 20s. What was so great about that decade anyway? Was it that I moved, like, 10 times, or was it the lessons about taking on and following through with responsibility? (Completely lost on me as a teenager) Was it learning what love wasn't, over and over again, or the paralyzing self doubt that accompanied everything from child rearing to being Young Women's president? By the time I'd left my home town of Santa Maria at 18, I had all but forgotten what is now another life, but still couldn't shake that feeling of never quite being pretty enough, skinny enough, or accomplished enough.
As I've begun to look ahead, I've realized that maybe 30 isn't so bad. I've started to observe my thirty-something friends, and am noticing something of a pattern. While they're all in different phases of families, careers, etc., they all seem to be a little more comfortable with themselves. They hold their heads high, and are confident in their abilities and roles. They seem unwavered by worldly standards, but focus instead on who they are. The result? They are magnificent! They are confident, and grounded, and beautiful because of it. My own shallow perceptions of age never really accounted for the changes that take place as we gain experience. I know it seems like a pretty obvious concept, but in my attempt to avoid aging, I've sort of missed that.
So... while I'm not quite ready to be one of those "I-get-better-with-age!" types, I am actually looking forward to this birthday. I don't know why I had it in my head that leaving my 20s behind somehow equates with the loss of youth anyway. I certainly don't feel old.
When John asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday, I very childishly responded "nothing... I'd rather forget it." I'm not really into the whole party-for-me-thing anyway, but I was even more turned off by the idea of celebrating what I've always envisioned as the end of my youth. "What is your deal with 30?" he asked. Hmmm... what is the deal with 30?
So I started thinking about the passing from my 20s. What was so great about that decade anyway? Was it that I moved, like, 10 times, or was it the lessons about taking on and following through with responsibility? (Completely lost on me as a teenager) Was it learning what love wasn't, over and over again, or the paralyzing self doubt that accompanied everything from child rearing to being Young Women's president? By the time I'd left my home town of Santa Maria at 18, I had all but forgotten what is now another life, but still couldn't shake that feeling of never quite being pretty enough, skinny enough, or accomplished enough.
As I've begun to look ahead, I've realized that maybe 30 isn't so bad. I've started to observe my thirty-something friends, and am noticing something of a pattern. While they're all in different phases of families, careers, etc., they all seem to be a little more comfortable with themselves. They hold their heads high, and are confident in their abilities and roles. They seem unwavered by worldly standards, but focus instead on who they are. The result? They are magnificent! They are confident, and grounded, and beautiful because of it. My own shallow perceptions of age never really accounted for the changes that take place as we gain experience. I know it seems like a pretty obvious concept, but in my attempt to avoid aging, I've sort of missed that.
So... while I'm not quite ready to be one of those "I-get-better-with-age!" types, I am actually looking forward to this birthday. I don't know why I had it in my head that leaving my 20s behind somehow equates with the loss of youth anyway. I certainly don't feel old.
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And if it makes you feel any better, I have about 9 grey hairs. I used to pluck them but have realized that I can't keep plucking them. If I do, I will start to not have any hair left!