I have come to realize recently that my thirties are basically for me to question everything I have ever been taught or believed. They are a time for me to really dig in to the nitty-gritty of life and figure out who I really am as a person. Since I pretty much took a blind leap from childhood into the deep end of adulthood, and then spent the next 10 or so years treading water and trying to catch my breath, I have decided that it is indeed just fine for me to take however long I need to actually figure out me.
I would like nothing more than to pay it forward, all of these words of wisdom I have so painstakingly learned as legit, undeniable truths. You’re welcome.
Water, wine, bread. It doesn’t have to be in that particular order or even that particular combination, but please, just please, do not try to be a hero, and out drink everyone around you, especially on an empty stomach. This rule applies to college (or highschool, let’s be honest) aged kids all the way through, well everyone, it applies to everyone. Gone are the days where you can get drunk, throw up, embarrass yourself in front of a handful of people, and show your face again on Monday. Friends, your friends are Snapchatting your ass, singing the Bohemian Rhapsody while barely being able to stand up straight. Do yourself a favor, hydrate. Balance that booze out with some water so that you can have a chance of not sleeping with your head in the toilet. And for the love of all that is holy, eat bread, while drinking. Even communion wine is served with a cracker, and Jesus knows best. No Keto or Atkins or GlutenFreePaleoBullshit can stand a chance against a belly full of tequila. And for the love of God, if you listen to nothing else, put down your phone. Drunk you really should not be texting, trust me, I know from experience. Luckily, I just get really freaking nice, and tell people I love them, but honestly that’s almost worse, people think I’m dying, seriously.
Yes, it gets worse. Adulting is pretty much the equivalent of doing back to back Ironmans for the rest of your life. I know that’s not entirely true, some of you did that whole, “I went to college and partied for four years,” thing. Or the, “I took a Gap Year, and backpacked through Europe,” thing. But let’s be honest, that’s not really adulting, now is it? I’m talking about the paying your own bills, “Oops, I guess we are eating dinner in the dark because I forgot to pay the electric bill, because I haven’t even had the time to eat or shower in 48 hours, because this kid is sucking the life out of me,” thing. Or the desperate need to socialize, “I made plans with my friends but now I am too tired to physically put on a bra, so I am going to pretend I’m sick,” thing. It literally gets so bad that when everyone around you has the flu and you are taking care of them, you pray to God that your immune system goes MIA so that you too can just be fussed over for a few days and not have to make excuses for not getting out of bed, or changing your clothes.
But you don’t get the flu. You just throw out your back so that you can barely walk and it feels like the lower portion of your body is made up of razor blades that are slowly but surely slicing through your spine, but you still have to take care of everyone that does have the flu. Yeah, adulting sucks, that bad. When you think that you have finally survived the stage that you are currently in, and you triumphantly pour yourself that well deserved adult beverage, because you can, remember…
Water, Wine, Bread, because it’s about to get worse, promise.
You are going to become your mother, deal with it. I can hear the cackling from down the hill, even just as this thought was taking shape in my mind, my mother is living it up, dancing around the fire pit, and screaming into the heavens, “I told you so!!!!”
Out of spite, I’ll keep it short.
You can spend your whole life thinking that you are an individual, or that God, “broke the mold,” when He made you, or that you are, “just unique,” and that’s sweet and all, but it’s a load of crap, really. One day you are going to open your mouth, and your mother is going to come flying out. One day you are going to look in the mirror and not recognize your face as your own but you are going to see her. One day, someone will tell you, you are beautiful, and what will pop in your head will be, “So basically you would have a thing for my mom, thanks.”
I can no longer think that I am creative because, I am just so me, or that I write because we all have our own little things. Nope, I am creative because she is, and I write because she does. And to make it worse, my Grandmother wrote too, and my brother does as well. Gross.
We have to take the good with the bad. It could be worse, I guess.
Never say never. Being the thick-headed, stubborn little brat that I am, I had to learn this one over and over and over again. Thirty-six year old me wants to laugh in the face of twenty year old me. I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until her frizzy hair comes flying out of her head and scream in her face, “You know nothing!!!” I won’t of course, mostly because it is physically impossible, but also because I am sure fifty-eight year old me will probably want to bitch slap thirty-six year old me right across the face. We know nothing.
Sure as the years pile up against us we learn little things here and there, and we are able to reflect back on how wise we have become. We get comfy in our own skin eventually, and start to think that we have some form of control in this life.
We don’t. And if you dare to use the word never, you should pretty much start planning for it to happen, like immediately.
“We will NEVER follow my family and move to Georgia.” -Did it, got the t-shirt.
“We will NEVER buy a brand new vehicle.”- Signed along the dotted line, with a smile.
“We will NEVER get another animal until all the kids are gone and we can just live for ourselves.”- Enter Goats. Not one goat, two goats. And with the plan of at least one more, and the possibility of future baby goats.
The thing is, we only know what we want and what we believe in our current circumstances. And we only know and believe it because we are comfortable with it. One day your whole life may turn upside down and you will have the opportunity to reevaluate everything. You will have this awakening of sorts, and sit back and say, “Is this me? Is this who I want to be? Is this what I believe?”
“Could I dare take on my past NEVERS and possibly be happy?”
The answer is yes. You can, and you should. We change, all the time. We have the right and the responsibility to question things, even if that means questioning ourselves.
I went from being a free-spirited teenager, who only cared about boys and theatre, to a wife and a mother with a completely closed mind and judgy heart, to this weird nomady creature who questions literally everything. Even though I still feel like I am seventeen. I still listen to the same music I have since the mid-nineties, and some of my closest friends are those that knew and loved one-dimensional, rebellious me, with black makeup and stripey tights, I’m just not her anymore. Who knows, maybe she will circle back again. But until then, the current me is just trying to figure out how to live my best life, right now.
And honestly, right now my best life is covered in baby goats…
Even though I said, NEVER.