Aging Gracefully Getting Older Means Changes - Some Of Them Exciting, Some Unsettling
It is time to admit it. My 30th birthday now recently past, I find myself advancing to a different phase of life. I am moving beyond twentysomething.
During these last 10 years, enormous changes have entered my world. I moved out of my parents’ house, graduated from college, embarked upon a career, married and became the mother of two little boys. To someone viewing life from the outside, these seem like vast changes. To someone viewing life from the inside, I am undergoing transformations even more profound than these. Shifting from postadolescence to full-throttled adulthood, I am experiencing physical alterations I wish I could prevent, and modifications in my relationship to the world around me. More than that, I am discovering mental and emotional changes that I embrace. I find that being me is not such a bad thing.
Yesterday, I looked in the mirror and noticed laugh lines on my face. Who, me? How could this be so? Adding insult to injury, the lines around my eyes are ever-increasing and the pores on my complexion enlarging. I thought my skin would remain taut and elastic forever. Now, I realize I deluded myself. No amount of sunscreen, exfoliation therapy or moisturizers can stop the inevitable.
A health-conscious person, I eat nutritious food and exercise regularly. A decade ago, convinced the combination of these two were my “fountain of youth,” I vowed to adhere to a regular exercise regimen. This would allow me to remain everyoung. Again, I deluded myself.
My body no longer defies the odds of gravity. Certain parts of my anatomy migrated southward some time ago. Now these parts are permanently relocated.
After giving birth to two children, I am convinced that no amount of leglifts or abdominal crunches will “snap” my stomach muscles back into place. Let’s get real - even rubberbands lose their shape after being stretched to the max. What makes women think their bodies are any different? Additionally, what makes women think this even matters?
I haven’t just changed externally. Over the past decade, attitudes about my responsibilities and the world around me have completed a 180-degree turn. Years ago I routinely drove down the road, windows down, music blaring, hair flowing in the breeze. One hand gripped the steering wheel while the other fiddled with the in-dash stereo controls. One eye was on the road, while the other hunted for a cute guy in a neighboring vehicle to flirt with.
Now, I travel with a couple of kids in tow, one hand clutching the steering wheel while the other doles out animal crackers and matchbox cars. One eye is on the road, while the other scouts for potential carjackers and muggers. My mind obsesses with: Are all the doors locked? Are the kids buckled in their car seats? When was the last time Ian used the toilet and Shane’s diaper was changed?
My objective now is to move from point A to point B in the safest manner with the least amount of hassle as possible. All the while, I’m hoping we can make it to a bathroom before Ian has an accident in his pants.
Along a similar vein, I am less selfcentered and feel an increasing concern for the younger generation. Several years ago when I noticed a good-looking college-age man with a buffed bod, my heart palpitated with excitement. My neck rubberized to get a better glance. I’d flash him an admiring I-like-what-I-see smile.
These days when noticing a young man who fits that description, I experience a maternal drive (albeit subtle) and consider that someday soon my boys will be that age. I restrain myself from lecturing him on why he should lead a clean, honest life and on the importance of good education. Whoa, have I changed!
Furthermore, my relationships with family members are different. Pleasantly, my siblings and I don’t get into the cat and dog fights we used to. However, I now face the difficult task of relating to my parents as fellow adults. Though a welcome change, this at times feels stressful and awkward. I have been assured by members of the older generation that this will always be the case, no matter how old one is. An adult woman will always be her parents’ little girl. I find some comfort in this. Nevertheless, it feels good to be a grown-up.
Additionally, friendships now have more depth. I believe this is due in part to personal growth. Years ago, my friends and I giggled about the cute guy in chemistry class or a recent party we attended. Now we discuss relationships - with our spouses, our children, our families. We also talk about more mundane topics, like how to remove crayon marks from the furniture and the most efficient way to clean the junk that accumulates under the refrigerator. Relationships and the mundane: Aren’t these the substance of life?
Most important, I realize my relationship with self has changed. In the past, I felt unsure of who I was. I considered how others perceived me to be of utmost importance. I judged myself a failure if I did not please those around me. Now, instead of what others want of me, I enjoy being my own person. Finally, I am coming to peace with myself.
A decade away from being a “young thing” and a decade away from middle-age, I’ve grown a lot over these past years. Furthermore, I like the new me. In moving beyond twentysomething, I may have lost a smooth, line-free face, but I have gained a friend.
MEMO: Jennifer Harris Bauman is a registered nurse and free-lance writer based in Spokane.