I don’t know why but the 5 and 10 year increments of my life always feel so significant to me. Each time you enter a new decade it’s a big deal. Unchartered territory. A chance to blaze a new and exciting trail. A fresh start. Like how it feels at the beginning of each new school year when you’re a kid and anything seems possible.
The 5 year increments are a big deal because YIKES(!!) you’re halfway through, so you’d better enjoy the time you have left in that decade.
It sounds silly as I type it out but I’ve always felt this way.
20 felt important because FINALLY you’re no longer a teenager and it feels like other people will take you seriously.
25 felt important because it’s the age that I really felt like an adult and bonus, the car rental companies agreed.
30 is a big deal because you’re no longer new to the world of adult-ing. In fact, now you’re a full fledged adult who’s swimming in the deep end of the family and career pool. Juggling life, supposedly knowing what you’re doing and trying not to get in over your head.
35 feels important because I’m now 5 years away from the BIG 4-0. That seems like a big deal. I’m halfway to 40. I guess I’d better let that soak in because I hear 40 is when I’ll be “over the hill.” A position that is still far better than being under the hill, if you ask me.
So it would seem that at 35 I’ve made my ascent to the top of this hill and during the next 5 years I get to enjoy my view from the peak.
I’m choosing to have a positive outlook here. Just go with me.
I mean, sure, I could lament the reality that body parts don’t quite hang like they used to. But with those parts I nursed 2 kids for a total of 3 years. That’s more impressive to me than maintaining my perky parts.
I could weep at the reality that I look tired pretty much all of the time now, but I’m tired because I’m fully immersed in the trenches of motherhood and all that comes with it. I have little humans waking in the middle of the night and the way too early hours of the morning because they need ME. As difficult as that is, I’ll take it.
I could stomp my feet and bemoan the fact that I have to use 3 different creams just to try and combat the signs of aging, but the alternative is not aging. So this one just kinda seems like a no brainer to me. Wrinkles are inevitable. It’s the sign of a life that’s been lived…blah, blah, blah. I didn’t appreciate my smooth skin enough when I had it anyway. I don’t think anybody does.
I could complain that I need mass amounts of caffeine to keep myself alert enough to raise these 2 kids but I love coffee, so I find it convenient that having kids gives me an excuse to consume as much as I do.
So, all of this has a common theme. Grieving this perceived loss of my youth or reveling in what is and what is to come.
I am choosing to revel in what is right in front of me. Saggy parts and all.
I am way more confident than I’ve ever been.
I am more sure of myself.
I am more willing to take chances.
I fear less.
I finally have a direction that I want my life to go in that involves being more than a wife and mother. (Not that there’s anything wrong with either of these things but I’ve been searching for something that is ALL MY OWN for quite some time now.)
I think I’m going to enjoy my view from the top of this hill. I earned it and I am going to drink lots of wine while I’m up here. Cheers to 35.