I've been coasting into a certain age I do not want to be for some time now. I hate everything there is to hate about aging. I always have. Even my name, Julie, means youthful. Now, before I give you the wrong impression, I want you to know that I appreciate life in general and the life I that lead. Just because I dislike aging does not mean that I am not grateful for all that I have. My list is extensive when it comes to the privileges I enjoy on a regular basis, and I'm well aware of how awesome those things are.
I loved turning 30. Thirty meant leaving the 20s behind, and that alone was a nice feeling. A decade later, approaching the "F" age, I'm not feeling the same way.
Maybe every milestone is challenging, and I'm just now realizing that. My 30s were almost as altering as that first year of a baby's life, just different. I traveled around the east coast a bit, flew to various places such as Monterey, CA and Saskatchewan in Canada for work. I got married and my husband and I moved cross-country (again), but this time it involved buying a house. I got a sample of one of the
coolest jobs I've ever had. I got pregnant, had a (big) baby via emergency c-section. I wigged out with fear and insane cautiousness over that new, precious bundle and thought for sure my marriage wouldn't last because of it. We joyously moved back to Madison, sold and then, once again, bought another house, all the while living out-of-state (again). I suffered through the loss of my dad to
pancreatic cancer. I took on a new job that allowed me to (finally) run my own business and be my own boss. I birthed baby girl #2 after 52 (no lie) hours of labor with the use of a forceps (instead of the c-section I was supposed to have, and which, 3 years later will require 2 types of surgery for me this fall), which damaged me in several ways, for life. And, also, in my 30s, I realized that I had fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome.
Although, in hindsight, it started in my 20s, the fibro/CFS has gotten
progressively worse. I don't know if it's turning the age after 39, or the fact that I feel like I've got one foot in the grave most days that makes me want to go back to true youth. (18 anyone? Well, at least knowing what I know now anyway.) I suppose that it's a mix of both. Overall, I'm not unhappy, and I'm certainly very appreciative of all the wonderful things in my life, but it's hard to feel 100% great when your body fails you and you already feel about 50 years older than you are many days.
I do what I can to combat this demon, but knowing that age is creeping in, makes it, well, just plain upsetting.
But maybe, just maybe, this next decade will be the one to settle me. Maybe I'll get to figure out what I really want to be when I grow up, maybe we'll be able to move into a house that I absolutely love, maybe I'll find some time for myself when the girls are both in school, maybe there will be more solutions in helping my body feel better.
Although I've got the brakes on....(hard)....right now, hoping to slow down the whole getting older thing, I'm still hopeful about the upcoming decade. I've got 2 beautiful girls to raise, a super-duper husband to share them with, and a mom/partner in crime to enjoy more time with as she semi-retires this year.
....but honestly, I'll still be hoping someone invents a time machine.
