Thursday, July 31, 2014

Growing up

Just today, for a little Throwback Thursday fun, I posted this picture of myself from our wedding 8 years ago:


...and every time I look at it, it makes me feel a profound sadness that I'm not very familiar with.



As I approach the big 4-0 in a few months, I find myself unfamiliar with that younger version of myself up there. Disconnected from those tanned freckles on my then-thinner arms, those smiling, totally carefree eyes. The world out there waiting to be grabbed hold of. Not quite innocence but...a certain tranquillity, an assuredness that the seasons of my life would be bountiful and, somehow, endless.

As I turn the corner to what was once called "mid-life" (gag), I do feel intrinsically changed.

Physically I have accumulated so much fatigue that it seems to have started turning itself into insomnia. It takes me longer to get up off the floor (though I am proud to say I can still sit cross-legged!) and I find myself wishing I had more exuberance in general.

Mentally, though, I feel more stable in so many ways. Thanks mainly to my daughters, I've learned my limits and am more sure of when it's worth it or not to push those limits. It still matters to me what other people think, but not in the same way, and not with the same people. It's ok for others not to like me, and that has given me a sense of great power.

I've become simultaneously more and less patient. My bullshit sensor has become even more refined and - and this is an important one for me - I've learned that holding grudges really, truly just isn't worth it.

I look at this picture, though, and I find myself wondering: "Am I as happy as I was then though?" And that's where the unfamiliar sadness comes in. Because, yes, I do think I'm happy overall. But there is a bittersweetness to it, a feeling of never-getting-it-back that I have just never really felt before. Something dark lurking over my conscience, reminding me that it's not and can never be what I once thought it was: endless. As singer Brooke Fraser tells it, It's funny how sad the funny things get as you grow older.

So. This is me now instead:


The same smiley attempt at living life.
Hardly ever alone in a picture.
A few more pounds and a few more greys.
And working her ass off to be ok with all that.