So it's time for a change. The beginning of the year is as good a time as any for a personal reevaluation. An assessment. A hoist-it-up-and-haul-it-over.
In doing some introspecting, I've decided that these past two years have been some of the most interesting. They have been full of ups and downs and so many surprises that you just can't plan for. I found myself at the end of a tunnel full of changes and not really sure where, exactly, I was coming out at. Still not quite sure about that. The landscape is different and I'm still devoid of many answers that I was hoping to have by now.
I know. Cryptic.
I'm pre-40 for another few weeks, and I'm still trying to figure this stuff out. I thought I'd have it all solidified by the time I was 40. I didn't race to turn 40 but I wasn't not looking forward to it either. In fact, it always seemed like the grand and glorious arrival. Truly an adult woman. That I would have it all together.
I always looked at my friends who are any number of years older and was excited for them when they turned 40. It seemed like this amazing, transitional age. They were beautiful, confident, smart, interesting and matured, even if they didn't quite see it that way at the time. I told them, "You're fabulous! Look at everything you've accomplished (to which I would list their individual attributes of fabulousness). You are this amazing woman, and you've made a difference in so many lives." They always looked at me dubiously, not quite believing, sometimes even with a little water in the corner of their eyes or almost imperceptibly tremulous lips, but I *BELIEVED* it. I knew that they were these incredible women, and that they were embarking on the greatest part of their lives.
Well, now I'm here. My turn. And I think I'm feeling what they felt. I'm on the brink of something. I can't quite see what is ahead, and in looking backwards, I'm seeing gaps and chinks in my path. I'm not trying to see my mistakes and my missed opportunities, they are looming over me completely of their own volition. I've told them to move on and get the hell out. There's nothing doing to fix it now, but they just blink at me like large neon signs of failure.
"YOU'RE *STILL* NOT A MOTHER.
...And now that you're almost 40 you probably never will be."
(40 is a tricky number for a girl who always thought her greatest accomplishment and joy would be a big family full of bouncing happy kids.)
"YOU DIDN'T GET YOUR MASTERS DEGREE.
...And if you would've done it several years ago, it would be done by now."
(Why didn't I see that I was going to be a career professional from the get-go??)
"YOU ARE *STILL* OVERWEIGHT.
...And if you had just lost 10 lbs. a year...Was it really so hard to do that??"
(I came across an old journal, it put me in a funk, bad. Because "if only...")
"YOU HAVEN'T WRITTEN YOUR BOOK.
Ideas are nothing if you don't act on them."
...And now that you're almost 40 you probably never will be."
(40 is a tricky number for a girl who always thought her greatest accomplishment and joy would be a big family full of bouncing happy kids.)
"YOU DIDN'T GET YOUR MASTERS DEGREE.
...And if you would've done it several years ago, it would be done by now."
(Why didn't I see that I was going to be a career professional from the get-go??)
"YOU ARE *STILL* OVERWEIGHT.
...And if you had just lost 10 lbs. a year...Was it really so hard to do that??"
(I came across an old journal, it put me in a funk, bad. Because "if only...")
"YOU HAVEN'T WRITTEN YOUR BOOK.
Ideas are nothing if you don't act on them."
You get the ugly picture.
I told my sister about it all, amidst an unusual bout of tears and reckless emotions, that spilled out one morning. I'm not a crier...at least I didn't use to be (so yeah...it looks like I cry now...go figure), so the tears and the feelings have really cramped my style and gotten on my nerves, which somehow only seems to exacerbate the whole "situation." I know I surprised her with my emotional meltdown, because I just really don't have those very often, and if I do, it's never in front of another person, or at least that's how I like it to be.
Anyway, she was very supportive and very comforting. I felt completely ridiculous and like I was spiraling out of control, but honestly, the tears just wouldn't stop. It became so ridiculous it made me laugh, which in turn made me feel better. She and I talked for a bit, and it felt good to share it all with her. I didn't feel so alone in my own mind, clattering around with my self-defeating thoughts, that I was trying to defeat and get rid of, thus far not so successfully! :$
My sister is doing for me, what I was doing for my friends. She's believing in me. She's seeing me from the outside, while I'm only able to see myself from the inside right now. She keeps telling me how wonderful I am. How talented and accomplished I am and have been. She reminds me of me. Her eyes are hopeful, and her voice is true. I know she *BELIEVES* it. She makes me want to believe it too.
So for her, and for my sanity and happiness, I'm trying to take it all on faith. I'm trying to believe that what she says is true. That I have helped people along the way through the years. That I have done good in the world. That I have contributed to the greater good of human kind in my own small ways. I've tried to do so at least, so that is a comfort.
I'm still trying to find my new path. Trying to identify and set my next batch of goals and accomplishments. I'm seeing light, but I don't know what it's shining on yet. I'm hoping it's something really good. And I'm hoping it's not too much longer until I'm able to decipher what it is, so I can get this new show on the road.