Musings On The Day
Dec. 15th, 2010 01:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyspriteIt's my birthday today. I'm older than I ever thought I'd be, and that's... an odd feeling.
When I was growing up, I decided that I wouldn't live past thirty. I wasn't a very happy kid, and I had watched my great-grandmother fall apart at her mental seams from dementia. I knew that, for large chunks of my family, our bodies tended to last a lot longer than our brains, and I didn't ever want that to happen to me.
I had things that I wanted to accomplish with my life, but when I sat down and thought about it, I realized that if I stayed on track I would be finished with all of them (move to Boston, go to college, be a veterinarian) by the time I was 30. So I just figured that that would be it - I'd make it to 30, do everything I wanted to do, and then there wouldn't be much of anything left, I wouldn't miss anything, and I'd just.... stop. I wouldn't live past that. And while this was mostly a joke, there was a lot of truth in it too. My mental image of my life always stopped there.
And then thirty came, and there were enough other major life changes going on around it - getting married, changing my name, quitting my job, starting my own business - that it was just one more little change in among everything else. While it registered on my mental and emotional radar, it wasn't nearly as major a moment as I had thought it would be. By the time my self-identity truly updated to register that I was past my self-imposed expiration date, it was almost a year later.
And then there were other goals, and other big life moments. Mountains to be climbed and houses to buy and shows to rehearse for and crises to maneuver through, and the passage of time just kind of drifted past me. Until I wound up here.
I don't know why, but for some reason this year I'm suddenly realizing how old I am. I never wanted to be this age, and I don't know quite how I feel about it. I'm old enough that, if my life had taken a different path, I could be the parent of a high school student. I'm old enough that I've spent almost as much time after college as I did before it. I've known my husband more than half my life. I identify more with the parents than the kids when I watch movies or read books. Magazines tell me that I should start Botox treatments ASAP, and that I need special creams and potions to get rid of the lines around my eyes. People tell me that my hairstyle is "inappropriate for my age."
I know that, to a lot of the people reading this, I'm still just a babe in arms. I know I'm not Old. But... I'm older than my image of myself, and that's just starting to hit home.
I don't want to stop being here. As much as the idea may be appealing sometimes, I'm still very much in love with the world and my place in it, and I'd rather get old and have fun than die young and avoid any risks. Especially this year, when death has been such a constant specter in the lives of my family and friends, I want to cling to every minute allotted to me. And I suppose that it's fairly telling that the mental and emotional repercussions of leaving my 20's are only just starting to hit me now, at 36.
I guess I just need to decide whether I want to recalibrate my mental image at all - whether it's more inappropriate and embarrassing to keep on thinking of myself as young, or more depressing and limiting to think of myself as mature. And what the hell does that even mean, anyway? I have no interest at all in becoming sedentary, or giving up my long hair or my nerdy-kid hobbies and interests... but at the same time, I don't want to be one of those awkward frozen-in-time people who still wear miniskirts and haunt college campuses and hang out with teenagers when they really ought to have moved on.
I don't know. I don't even know what questions to ask, right now....
When I was growing up, I decided that I wouldn't live past thirty. I wasn't a very happy kid, and I had watched my great-grandmother fall apart at her mental seams from dementia. I knew that, for large chunks of my family, our bodies tended to last a lot longer than our brains, and I didn't ever want that to happen to me.
I had things that I wanted to accomplish with my life, but when I sat down and thought about it, I realized that if I stayed on track I would be finished with all of them (move to Boston, go to college, be a veterinarian) by the time I was 30. So I just figured that that would be it - I'd make it to 30, do everything I wanted to do, and then there wouldn't be much of anything left, I wouldn't miss anything, and I'd just.... stop. I wouldn't live past that. And while this was mostly a joke, there was a lot of truth in it too. My mental image of my life always stopped there.
And then thirty came, and there were enough other major life changes going on around it - getting married, changing my name, quitting my job, starting my own business - that it was just one more little change in among everything else. While it registered on my mental and emotional radar, it wasn't nearly as major a moment as I had thought it would be. By the time my self-identity truly updated to register that I was past my self-imposed expiration date, it was almost a year later.
And then there were other goals, and other big life moments. Mountains to be climbed and houses to buy and shows to rehearse for and crises to maneuver through, and the passage of time just kind of drifted past me. Until I wound up here.
I don't know why, but for some reason this year I'm suddenly realizing how old I am. I never wanted to be this age, and I don't know quite how I feel about it. I'm old enough that, if my life had taken a different path, I could be the parent of a high school student. I'm old enough that I've spent almost as much time after college as I did before it. I've known my husband more than half my life. I identify more with the parents than the kids when I watch movies or read books. Magazines tell me that I should start Botox treatments ASAP, and that I need special creams and potions to get rid of the lines around my eyes. People tell me that my hairstyle is "inappropriate for my age."
I know that, to a lot of the people reading this, I'm still just a babe in arms. I know I'm not Old. But... I'm older than my image of myself, and that's just starting to hit home.
I don't want to stop being here. As much as the idea may be appealing sometimes, I'm still very much in love with the world and my place in it, and I'd rather get old and have fun than die young and avoid any risks. Especially this year, when death has been such a constant specter in the lives of my family and friends, I want to cling to every minute allotted to me. And I suppose that it's fairly telling that the mental and emotional repercussions of leaving my 20's are only just starting to hit me now, at 36.
I guess I just need to decide whether I want to recalibrate my mental image at all - whether it's more inappropriate and embarrassing to keep on thinking of myself as young, or more depressing and limiting to think of myself as mature. And what the hell does that even mean, anyway? I have no interest at all in becoming sedentary, or giving up my long hair or my nerdy-kid hobbies and interests... but at the same time, I don't want to be one of those awkward frozen-in-time people who still wear miniskirts and haunt college campuses and hang out with teenagers when they really ought to have moved on.
I don't know. I don't even know what questions to ask, right now....
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no subject
Date: 2010-12-16 02:25 am (UTC)Forgive me if I repeat any themes from other commenters. I'm intentionally commenting without reading what others wrote because I want this to be straight from the heart. And it comes from someone who's enough older than you are to speak from experience.
It sounds as though you're asking the kinds of questions that are exactly age-appropriate, according to the school of psychology that sees maturing and aging as a matter of going through various stages, each with its own tasks. Taking stock is a great basis for moving forward.
It's not surprising that at some point you became older than your image of yourself. That's okay; it happens to everyone sooner or later. My mother explained this to me. She said that at some point your self-image stops aging, but your body keeps on going. She explained that this is why reflective shop windows become something of a shock as you get older. The trick is to develop a sense of humor about it. My own self-image stopped aging somewhere in my late 20s to early 30s. It makes me laugh each time I get an unexpected glimpse of my reflection and am surprised that I no longer look as I did back then. I'm glad my mother warned, me though!
As for giving up things you enjoy - Don't! It's not necessary to hold onto things which no longer interest you, but if you enjoy something, keep doing it. It's the interest and joy in living that keeps a person young in spirit, and that can affect how you look physically.
It's fine to continue enjoying the friendship of younger people as you age. I think it's far healthier than limiting yourself to people your own age. My friends' ages range from decades younger than I to decades older. Why not? An interesting and convivial person is interesting and convivial no matter what age he/she happens to be.
Sure, friends of very different ages may enjoy some things that you don't. But they might also expose you to delightful experiences you'd never have had if you limited yourself to people your own age. If it wasn't for a friend much younger than I, I would never have heard of LJ, let alone joined. My life is much richer for this discovery and the new friends I've made here.
To me, it's not a matter of thinking of myself as more mature or older, it's more a matter of growing into a sense of my own competence and valuing the experiences I've had, and am going to have. In spite of the disconnect between my youthful self-image and my actual age and appearance, I like myself as I am. I'm not young anymore, and that's okay with me. I can joke about being "old" because in my heart I'm young, and hope always to be. As far as maturity goes, there are people I know who were more mature as pre-teens than others I know who are in their 60s and 70s.
I'd also suggest you not worry about style. You're self-aware enough to look in the mirror and know whether or not what you're wearing looks good on you. Some people should never wear miniskirts at any age. Then there's Tina Turner. If you like your hair long, keep it long. Who cares what someone else thinks? IMO anyone who thinks that certain hair styles are acceptable only for certain ages is out of touch with current fashion. Somewhere on-line (maybe Yahoo?) I recently read an article on this very subject. The author took the position that long hair can actually make a woman appear younger than her years. There were pictures and examples of gorgeous well-known women far older than you who wear their hair long.
So, to sum up: Do what you love, spend time with those you love, wear what you want, plan to do what you think is important and fulfilling, then do those things, and you'll be fine.
Lots of good things are in your future; may the coming year be filled with them!