So this is what 5 AM feels like...
I figured I should qualify this with a title that explains. For some (OLD) reason, I went to bed at 8 last night - just after shooing the kids off to bed. I was (OLD) exhausted. Well, what I'll say about it is: "I feel old". OLD. And inevitably my mother and her friends, along with my older-than-myself friends will inform me that I am not, in fact, old.
See, this is the oldest I've ever been. It feels old. I remember, for instance, staying up 3 days straight to hang out with friends or play video games. Back in myyyy day... I remember sleeping on my friends floor for a month and feeling fine. Of course our parents would look at me like I was missing parts of my brain when I said I was fine with that arrangement. But I was. I could've slept on a jagged rock if I'd had a pillow. I slept like the dead. When I woke up I felt great. These days I sleep on a memory foam mattress (I heart it), with two pillows, plus one between my knees... and when I wake up in the morning, at least half the time, my back still hurts. If I don't get my 8 hours a night I feel it. And look it. Some days I feel like I'm turning into Tommy Lee Jones, my eye bags rivaling his... Tommy Lee Jones has always been the pinnacle of eye-bagginess to me.
So I turned 30 this year. And I noticed that (in fact I pointed it out on a friend's status on facebook) - nobody ever says good things about being 30+. I hear plenty of "Oh I'm so tired, must be one of those things that happens after 30" or "My joints hurt so bad, must be one of those things that happens after 30..." or "I have to eat something or my blood sugar drops and I get crabby, ever since I turned 30..." or "I'm dying of cancer, that's what happens when you hit 30..." Okay, okay, I jest. Who cares about blood sugar anyway?
The whole year leading up to my birthday I was sort of depressed. It was always lurking in the back of my mind, like a mental bogeyman. At any point, completely unprovoked, it could jump out at me, the whole "OH MY GOD I'M ALMOST 30!" Which bothered me mostly because it meant I really was not 16 anymore. Not like the husband and kids and job could've cleared that up for me, I could somehow delude myself into believing maybe I was still *a teensy bit* 16 - so long as I wasn't 30. My best friend, who is often a wise woman (and remembers me when I was 16), would gently tell me to STFU, that being 20 something sucked, that being 30 felt more mature, more sure, much better. I'd be appropriately chastised and nod in agreement, but I didn't totally get it. I understood her rationale on a strictly logical level, but it didn't really feel right.
Well, here's what getting up at 3 AM does for me. Introspection, yay. Somehow my jumble of random thoughts came together into this: I like being 30. It's true, I'm not so rash and confused as I was in my 20s. I'm not so unsure of myself. I'm comfortable in a lot of things I never used to be (mind you, part of that's the epic medication I take).
I realize a lot of things now. That I'll never be the life of the party, that sometimes I hate people. That I can be forgetful, spiteful, and irritable. That I'm not as punctual or organized as I'd like to be (or as much as my resume says I am), that I'm not warm and fuzzy, overly witty or fun.
No, no, those things I realized a long time ago. For a long time I felt wrong for those things. As if there was a blueprint for human beings and mine got coffee spilled on it or something. I wanted to be the life of the party, the bubbly fun girl. I wanted to be the warm, fuzzy and expressive hugger that I was in my teens. I wanted more patience, to be an extrovert - basically to be everything I'm not. I admired people who were those things and envied them. I felt inferior to them.
Getting older has taught me that I don't need to apologize for being who I am. Nobody else can be me like I can. It's taught me that I don't need to look like a supermodel, that I can wear my extra few pounds just fine, that people like me anyway. Because...
If you turn the coin around, there's a lot that even I like about myself. I like that I'm a thinker. I like that I'm always trying to learn. That I've found the things that I really love to do and am pursuing them. I like that I'm a giver, and that I love to help. Because I may not be the party girl that'll make any gathering a blast, but I'll be there when things quiet down. I value closeness over showiness. I like my alone time. And I can organize and be on top of things, sit at a desk all day, and not get bored. I like that I'm learning to take risks without being afraid of what people will say. That if people don't like it they can piss off. I like feeling free to be who I want to be without feeling boxed in by what anyone thinks.
Of course, this is the oldest I've ever been - as I said. But realizing that I'm much more comfortable with it all at 30 than I was at 20, makes me look forward to 40 a whole lot more.
See, this is the oldest I've ever been. It feels old. I remember, for instance, staying up 3 days straight to hang out with friends or play video games. Back in myyyy day... I remember sleeping on my friends floor for a month and feeling fine. Of course our parents would look at me like I was missing parts of my brain when I said I was fine with that arrangement. But I was. I could've slept on a jagged rock if I'd had a pillow. I slept like the dead. When I woke up I felt great. These days I sleep on a memory foam mattress (I heart it), with two pillows, plus one between my knees... and when I wake up in the morning, at least half the time, my back still hurts. If I don't get my 8 hours a night I feel it. And look it. Some days I feel like I'm turning into Tommy Lee Jones, my eye bags rivaling his... Tommy Lee Jones has always been the pinnacle of eye-bagginess to me.
 |
| This is me on a bad day. Just kidding. This is me on a good day. |
The whole year leading up to my birthday I was sort of depressed. It was always lurking in the back of my mind, like a mental bogeyman. At any point, completely unprovoked, it could jump out at me, the whole "OH MY GOD I'M ALMOST 30!" Which bothered me mostly because it meant I really was not 16 anymore. Not like the husband and kids and job could've cleared that up for me, I could somehow delude myself into believing maybe I was still *a teensy bit* 16 - so long as I wasn't 30. My best friend, who is often a wise woman (and remembers me when I was 16), would gently tell me to STFU, that being 20 something sucked, that being 30 felt more mature, more sure, much better. I'd be appropriately chastised and nod in agreement, but I didn't totally get it. I understood her rationale on a strictly logical level, but it didn't really feel right.
Well, here's what getting up at 3 AM does for me. Introspection, yay. Somehow my jumble of random thoughts came together into this: I like being 30. It's true, I'm not so rash and confused as I was in my 20s. I'm not so unsure of myself. I'm comfortable in a lot of things I never used to be (mind you, part of that's the epic medication I take).
I realize a lot of things now. That I'll never be the life of the party, that sometimes I hate people. That I can be forgetful, spiteful, and irritable. That I'm not as punctual or organized as I'd like to be (or as much as my resume says I am), that I'm not warm and fuzzy, overly witty or fun.
No, no, those things I realized a long time ago. For a long time I felt wrong for those things. As if there was a blueprint for human beings and mine got coffee spilled on it or something. I wanted to be the life of the party, the bubbly fun girl. I wanted to be the warm, fuzzy and expressive hugger that I was in my teens. I wanted more patience, to be an extrovert - basically to be everything I'm not. I admired people who were those things and envied them. I felt inferior to them.
Getting older has taught me that I don't need to apologize for being who I am. Nobody else can be me like I can. It's taught me that I don't need to look like a supermodel, that I can wear my extra few pounds just fine, that people like me anyway. Because...
If you turn the coin around, there's a lot that even I like about myself. I like that I'm a thinker. I like that I'm always trying to learn. That I've found the things that I really love to do and am pursuing them. I like that I'm a giver, and that I love to help. Because I may not be the party girl that'll make any gathering a blast, but I'll be there when things quiet down. I value closeness over showiness. I like my alone time. And I can organize and be on top of things, sit at a desk all day, and not get bored. I like that I'm learning to take risks without being afraid of what people will say. That if people don't like it they can piss off. I like feeling free to be who I want to be without feeling boxed in by what anyone thinks.
Of course, this is the oldest I've ever been - as I said. But realizing that I'm much more comfortable with it all at 30 than I was at 20, makes me look forward to 40 a whole lot more.
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