I think being old has snuck up on me, and then jumped me in a dark alley and forever left its mark on my life.
I'm 27. True fact. I've traveled the world, been married and divorced, given birth, been abandoned. Now I've got a job and a 401(k) and I drop my daughter at kindergarten every morning on my way into the office. She takes dance classes on Saturday. I schedule phone calls with my best friends. I shop online because it's easier. I have a cocktail or a beer after work. I'm in bed, asleep, by 10:30 most nights.
This is what old people life is like, isn't it?
I mean, I could still go out on Wednesday nights if I wanted to, but getting five hours of sleep and being slightly drunk when I wake up is hardly worth it when all that's going to happen is I'm going to go to a bar (alone), sit there (alone) and then go home (alone). Plus, I'll probably end up spending more money than I ought to, considering I really want to figure out a way to rationalize the purchase of a ridiculously expensive dress that I have nowhere to wear, and it's really hard to do that when you just dropped $25 on craft cocktails.
So basically, it's not worth it to go out and be wild and crazy and young. I don't want to go out unless I have guaranteed sparkling conversation. Which means plans made in advance, and I am so horrible at asking people to do things and most of the time it doesn't work out anyway. So why bother? I can watch Netflix in bed or write about theater events I haven't seen or read 10,000 word articles about Dominionism instead.
I'm old, guys. I'm a fuddy-duddy. A spinster.
It won't be long until my jowls start to sag and my tits are around my knees and I wear support stockings and complain about my knees. (Actually, I already have some serious wrinkles and I am more apt to complain about my cartilage-less hips. For real. They hurt.)
I'm old. It's pretty terrifying. I'm shallow, and so being old also means no longer being pretty, and that's really, really scary. I honestly don't know if my self-esteem will be able to handle the blow of no longer being looked at by men.
But it also means that nothing I accomplish between now and my death will be as notable as it might have been. I am not a prodigy. I am not a wunderkind. Even if I manage to publish a book or write for the New York Times or really just about anything that I might want to do, it won't be the kind of show-stopping accomplishment that it would have been if I'd done it young. Somewhere in my head, I wanted to be Tavi Gevinson, and now I have to deal with the fact that I'm not. I'm not that great. Even if I manage to accomplish great things eventually, I'll not be great-great, just normal-great.
Nothing will ever come ahead of schedule. Now I'm stuck in the local lanes, slogging my way through all that detritus.
I'm old. I'm scared. I guess this is growing up.
Moving past the sorrow of not being The Next Big Things and coming to terms with not being a wunderkind is something a lot of us overachiever types have to deal with, I think. I know I did, but I did it a bit younger for some reason. Oh right, because I was really not The Best at the thing I got my major in, so I had to deal with people getting better grades than me, and it kind of went from there, I think.
ReplyDeleteBut on the flipside I have realized how exhausting it is to be The Best, by looking at it from a variety of angles - from my best friend who works at a top ad agency and what it cost him, from looking at what professional sports players or Olympians sacrifice, and by looking at what our country expects of top-tier businesspeople and politicians, and I firmly and loudly say, that's not worth it. I value things like time to do what I want, and being imperfect at times, and not having to give up spending time with my friends and family.
As for aging meaning losing beauty - pfft! I have those worries too, I think every woman probably does, but one thing I've learned from working with a variety of women of all ages is that I have known truly beautiful (not just "inner beauty" beautiful, but physically beautiful) women who are older. A lot has to do with taking care of themselves, from what I can tell - I'm hoping yoga will do the trick for me! Some is probably luck and genetics. But it's only true that you might not be turning heads of younger people. I have found that men I would have immediately dismissed as too old ten years ago I now see as stone foxes. I think our attractive-meters age with us, or at least mine does. So that is a thing.
And I am personally loving getting older because every year I feel smarter and more in touch with who I really am and closer to being the kind of woman I want to be. But that's me. I'm just trying to give the perspective, growing up doesn't have to be all bad and scary. It can be awesome. Clearly it is ok to be scared! But work with the scared instead of fighting the maturing process.
Also there is a middle ground between going out and buying drinks at bars and staying home with Netflix in bed! This is called hanging out with friends at houses and is why I wish we lived within a distance to do that. I have a temperament where I find it much more enjoyable to do so anyway, but I also just don't enjoy staying up late or bars as much as I used to. Or spending money. And I like cooking and hanging around in kitchens. So, there is that! (Someday I will have a dinner party. Someday.) (I will need to find more chairs, first...)
let's talk aging one day. I may have a different perspective. The "you're as young (or old) as you feel" thing may be crap, but a lot of fantastic, magical things have been accomplished by people of all ages.
ReplyDelete27 is not old. Trust me. Revel in your youth.
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