I almost skipped with joy over turning 30, it was awesome and I so looked forward to it. Fast forward just five years, and I'm in the foetal position, whimpering over the upcoming 35th birthday.
30 felt exciting and a new start, 35 feels like the end of an era, one I'm not ready to let go.
It's going to surprise people to learn I'm immature, childish, childlike and enjoy being silly and amused by silly things. (Okay, it's not exactly a surprise.) 35 is the realisation that I'm not actually young anymore, I really am an adult and I feel stupid for not feeling like I am one, and guilty because I don't want to be one. I see people my age, who just seem so in control and mature and then there's me, on Twitter discussing the merits of Fraggle Rock. I just feel like I can't identify with serious adult life.
I think being a furparent rather than a "real" one, helps fuel my attitude to life. I don't have to be responsible for another person (which frankly is only a good thing for everyone involved) and so I'm afforded the opportunity to care more about shopping and travelling and spending all day in front of the tv watching Cupcake Wars marathons. Plus I don't have to let anyone else play with my stuffed animals and toys, so I get to enjoy them, from my view. I'm a walking Peter Pan complex.
There are many reasons I've decided not to have children, and it's not a decision I have any regret over. My biological clock has never ticked. A few years ago I sort of set a date to have kids, purely because I felt like I should, and that maybe I'd grow into the idea. I never did and that date's been and well gone. One thing about my attitude to life is that I simply have never felt emotionally strong or ready enough to be a parent. I've always reserved the right to change my mind when I eventually "grew up". I'm struggling with the fact that my time to grow up in regards to this has run out - I know people can have kids later than 35, but I was advised for health reasons that 35 was my cutoff, which I think is actually right, I recognise my body has limitations. It feels very sad to me, not because I do want a child, but because the chance to change my mind has gone. I've aged physically much faster than I've grown emotionally. That's hard to get my head around. I've passed a major adult milestone without ever feeling like an adult!
I'm also dwelling on regrets on how I "wasted" my youth. Again, the dwelling is silly because really I don't regret my younger years. Maybe I wish I was a bit more adventurous and did some more "crazy" things, but I'm a goody two shoes, and anything else wouldn't have been true to me. I do very much regret not looking after myself physically and taking my health for granted, it's lead to me being very fat, and unhappy now. I also regret some of the friendships I didn't cement and how that meant my plans for a 35th birthday party fell apart when I realised I had too small a guest list. I'm good at making acquaintances, but rarely good at making more of that. (That said while I do certainly take responsibility for mistakes I've made, sometimes the other people are just jerks.:) )
Of course the ridiculous thing here is that I actually am a grown up, responsible adult. I, with husband, run a household - not well but it runs, I have a pretty high level job in my organisation, and have the responsibility of managing others - again not well, but I'm getting there - and do general adult things and chores. Just because I also like cute things and giggling over silly things, and still occasionally rock pigtails doesn't stop me actually being a grow up. Nor does things like not wanting kids, it means I'm different to most adults, but it doesn't make me worse or immature, just different. Different can be cool.
I've got some fabulous advice from people over the last three days, that really gave me some perspective. The best came from my youngest sister (I hate when she's wiser than I am!) who reminded me that age is really just a number, a coincidence in the sense that it just happens to reflect when I was born, not who I am or what I've achieved and will achieve in the future. A future, which all fingers crossed is long and healthy, and I'll have so much time to achieve my dreams. Whether those dreams could be considered frivolous by others, it doesn't matter, they're true to me, and I shouldn't feel bad about them or that I'm lacking as an adult. Emotionally I quite like me, sure I can be a bit too shaky and self conscious at times (not that you'd have noticed *cough*) but I think on the whole, I'm quite fun and warm, and I have to really remind myself that I'm full of good qualities and dreams and that I don't have to change them or me to match my age or a belief on how an adult should be. I also should probably accept that 35 isn't actually old!
Gee I promised some light entertainment blogs, didn't I? I'm failing that bad. The next one will have to be about fluffy bunnies and sunshine or the like. Promise!
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