This week, conversations kept swirling around to getting older and wiser. Amongst several different friends at several different times, the topic of self-evolution and appreciation have dominated discussion. I’m going to attempt to talk about something completely unoriginal in an original way. But really, there are clichés for a reason and I have no way to get around that.
I’d been studying my chest skin in the mirror when I got a text from my friend Evan.
“Every decade I look back at pictures of myself and think fuck - I looked amazing. Why the hell was I so dissatisfied with myself. Now that I’m a genius 40 something, I battle with it in a more cognizant way but I know it will continue forever. Until I’m dead. And then I’ll just look back at me on a hospital bed or whatever and my ghost will think - holy shit, look at me, I was lucky to be breathing. I look great.”
Isn’t it just the damn truth? My chicken-skin-like chest may not be smooth like she once was but what does that even matter? I’m lucky to be breathing.
I wonder if we can ever fully appreciate exactly where we are without the wisdom time brings. The reflection and the perspective distance and years provide. I think about this a lot and I’ve written about it recently too. I’ve been successful at creating memories and living with presence but that hasn’t always been without painful insecurity and pressing self-doubt. Wishing I was thinner or richer or in love. I feel like I missed out on completely enjoying so many moments because my mind was so clouded with criticism.
At 40, I feel I’ve reached a new rung in the ladder. Insecurities about my body or my looks have dissolved and been replaced by disbelief at how much I hated it before. This decade has provided me with the perspective that aging from 20 to 30 and then 30 to 40 won’t look as extremely different as 40 to 50 and then 50 to 60 will. Your body gets older if you’re lucky. It just does. Tell that to a 25 year old and it won’t even compute. I don’t think it can and maybe it shouldn’t.
“Youth is wasted on the young.”
Maybe the whole point of your 20s and 30s is to get over hating yourself enough to let it go in your 40s and finally have a good time. Topping my worry list these days are concerns over my health and the health of my loved ones. What used to be staring at my cellulite and deciding I can’t possibly be lovable has morphed into watching moles on my body to make sure they haven’t changed. I’ve learned to love and appreciate myself in a new way and I’m so grateful for that saved energy.
As far as love goes, I was always single. Apart from a stint with a toxic and emotionally abusive relationship in my early 30s, I was the friend to call for dog or house sitting. Always free for a movie or a drink. I officiated a wedding and had to take the baby room at the Airbnb my family rented. Literally two tiny twin beds, a toy cabinet and a sink sized for a hobbit but, because it was just me, it made sense. Can I reiterate that I was the freaking OFFICIANT (single or not) of this wedding and still slept in a half-sized bed?? (here’s the IG story proof from that time…enjoy.)
I never had anyone to consider but myself and it wasn’t until the very last year of this identity that I really appreciated the beauty of it. I was desperate to find a partner. I wanted to fall in love so badly it seemed I never would. And then something shifted. I’d moved home, ridden out a Pandemic with my parents, started a new job, made some new friends and suddenly, I just knew I was gonna meet someone. Not when or how, just that I was. Fact. I stopped looking and it found me…ew.
LITERALLY BARF.
I’m sorry I’ve written that but I told you, there is no way around a cliché. It exists because it’s true and it’s the reason it’s already been said a thousand times.
Ultimately, the wisdom I’ve gathered is that your self-confidence and your self-love are what bring you peace. Because you’re okay with what you have, no matter what. You’re lucky to be breathing and you know it.
So maybe that’s just it. You can only be where you are. Every cloud has a silver lining. Sometimes you wake up on the wrong side of the bed and other times you don’t have a care in the world. If you don’t get your knickers in a twist, you just might live happily ever after.
Cliché as it may sound.
Here’s the list:
READING
Alison Roman’s Sweet Enough. I love every single recipe in here so far and the chocolate pudding I made this week is no exception. Expect a Good Thing about this soon.
WATCHING
Season 5 of Fargo. I am such a Juno Temple fan. She’s so compelling and also (please don’t take this as reductive) so freaking cute. I could watch her play any character and be completely engaged I think. Loved it.
LISTENING
…still on my Daylist bullshit…today Microcore Coming of Age Monday Afternoon??? Okay Spotify, sure.
Posting a little later than usual today as yesterday I spent the afternoon on a writer’s meet-up hosted on Zoom by Farrah Storr of Things Worth Knowing. It was SO cool to be on a chat with a bunch of other writers, the sense of community was so special and I’m thankful to be a part of it. I highly recommend her Substack for readers but definitely for writers.
Hope you are all rounding out January on a high. I’ve got a special surprise coming for you this week…okay I’ll tell you…it’s a podcast. I hope you enjoy it.
Til next time.
xoxo.