I realize that I’m getting older and I’m okay with that. I just don’t get bent out of shape about stuff like that. Because really, life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but rather by the moments that take your, right?
Well, I’ve got a new appreciation for the older ladies and gents in my life now. The ones who take off a few years when someone asks their age. The ones who see a fellow mid-lifer and inquire softly, under their breath to me, “Do I look younger than her?”
I appreciate these people now…I appreciate and understand because I have watched the Bachelor. I remember when this show first came on TV so many years ago and I thought the ladies were so much older…and so much wiser and cooler. And now, staring at myself from the other side of the glass, I think… “I’m older than these ladies (though not by much)…and I’m certainly not cooler…wiser, yes…yes, I will give myself that.”
These ladies are my age if not younger and they are vying for this prince’s affections for him to fall in love with and marry them. Ladies, doesn’t this seem a little belittling? Demeaning? Behind the times, even? I certainly think it does.
But I’m not going to lie to you. I have watched and been entertained by two, maybe three episodes. What’s really entertaining though, is seeing the commercials and then the show…because they are always totally different.
Anyway, sorry. Back to what I was writing about.
I had a semi-out-of-body experience the other morning. I was driving to work. Listening to talk radio. Drinking a coffee with one hand and driving with the other. I had on my “big girl” clothes – a black pencil skirt, button down shirt and my fancy designer, favorite stilettos. It was then that I saw myself as I used to see people like me when I was 12 or 16 or 21…
I do old things. I’m older. I own my home, I own my car, I have a cat that is well nourished and plants that thrive. I work full-time, M-F, 8-5 and only miss work when I absolutely have to. I worry about retirement and savings and the future. And I am in grad school…which more often times than not makes me feel older too.
And I date. And when you date at this age, people feel better if they think you are serious about the person whom you are dating. For some reason, they need to know that you see a future…because otherwise…they think you are wasting your time. Or that your eggs are going to go bad. Or that I’m “not getting any younger.”
But then I think… “Slow down there! I’m only 24.” I mean, I know time flies at this age…but I just need a brake. I need a brake from the pressures of going older. I need to be young again. To take playtime seriously. To feel the cold, wet grass underneath my feet. To take the time to smell the sweet air of morning…because that is my favorite time of day. To wake up early and go to bed late…just because. To not worry about working out and staying fit. And eating right. And doing the most mature thing.
I want to throw a temper tantrum. Laugh until I physically can’t laugh anymore because my sides are streaming out in pain. I want to sneak into movies in the middle of the afternoon
And most of all I want to remember everyday how fast time goes…and that I am not guaranteed one more minute. And to act like a kid every once in a while…just because.