I realized yesterday that I'll never be twenty again. And probably never full of that hope and gonna-get-'em spirit like I was then.
But this? The thirty-five year old mom of two gig?
I kinda like it.
Thirty five seems to be the best so far - I'm aware that my body isn't the same as when I was in my twenties, but I have only a few new lines and sags, so no bellyaching about being over the hill.
I like that younger people think of me as grown-up, although it still amazes me that older people do - and I hope I never grow out of the lovely feeling of being a kid that my grandparents still give me.
Inside, I feel responsible and dutiful and ready-to-assume-control, but that feeling is fighting a never-ending battle with the voice inside me that screams 'Dance! Dance badly! WHO CARES!'
It's a nice hum. You could almost dance to it.
6 comments:
Dance! Dance badly indeed!!
You asked for a recommendation for a Salvador Dali book... sadly, I have no recommendation to give. I just went to the public library and chose two that had lots of images of his artwork so the students could take a look. Sorry!
When I realised I was never going to be 20 again (or a famous and notorious celebrity for that matter!) it was a sad day. But then I perked up when my son came and gave me a huge grin and hug, and somehow it all became irrelevant!
I realized I'd never be 20 again on my 21st birthday. I almost cried.
Now that 35 is a dimming sight in my rearview mirror, I can say it was pretty good.
-J.
Go ahead and Dance!!
I have no rhythm and can not dance at all, so could you shake it a little for me, too?
So being comfortable in your own skin finally comes at 35?
Whew! I'm looking forward to it.
I just turned 38; recently, a friend said, "I thought you were so much younger!" And I was a little offended (in a good way, of course). Because I like being where I am and who I am.
I like dancing badly.
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