Thirty-One Days to Fifty -Day Two: Hi, My Name Is…
Reposting of an original 31 day blog series revealing my neurotic, self-deprecating analysis and anxiety over turning fifty.
One of the scariest things about aging (for me anyway), is really getting to know yourself. Discovering hopefully that who you really are is who you’ve always wanted to be- or not.
At the age of ten the only thing I wanted to be was a professional equestrian. Traveling around with my horses, all twenty of them, safely loaded in my big trailer pulled by my beautiful pick-up truck across the country. I love horses and was fortunate to have them as a large part of my life growing up and still have one today.
The difference between then and now in terms of what I wanted compared to what I am have varied greatly. No doubt that the decisions I have made from the time I was ten has created who I am at 49 years and 337 days old. If it wasn’t for puberty, today I would be a professional horse whisperer!
Yes, I believe that adolescent transformation can ruin the dreams of a ten year old girl.
In just three short years we go from pigtails to wearing bras, turning into wailing, whiny mini bitches who hate our mothers, resent our fathers and secretly desire to be on the cover of teen magazine. We smoke our first cigarette, don hideous blue eye shadow waiting for any eligible fifteen year old boy to finally get to second base. We develop friendships and social skills sharing secret handshakes and made up languages. We hide our diaries, spend countless hours on the phone and stress over homework and self image while our parents worry about our future.
When I really think about it, I’m still that thirteen year old girl. Substitute the cigarettes for vodka, add Facebook and not much has changed. Except for the fact that getting felt up by a 15 year old boy would be illegal, if not awkward.
So who am I at almost 50?
Can’t say, and I’m not sure I even want to know. I like the “wait and see” version of myself. I evolve daily and revert sometimes hourly. A walking contradiction at times depending on the weather. Complicated and beautiful if you ask my husband. Sensitive and loyal if you ask my friends. Talented and determined if you ask my mother. I like myself even though there are many things I don’t like about me.
There, I proved it.
Regardless, at the end of the day I always seem to find something about me that I know for sure. I know I’m loved, and that’s important. And sometimes hard…for others.
Yes, getting to know yourself isn’t always easy, but a journey none-the-less.
Here’s hoping that the bumps in the road along the way haven’t done too much damage to the vehicle.
I may need that pick-up truck someday.