Friday, February 20, 2009

Maybe it is my fault: a rambling of thoughts

When I was a teenager (specifically), I prided myself in being different.

I absolutely hated blending in with everyone else.

I suspect that this attitude was due to the fact that I went to so many different schools and by the third high school I attended in the first two years of my high school education, it didn't matter what I did to try to make friends anyway. People just weren't accepting of a newbie. Not at the schools I attended, at least.

And I know if I tried harder... if I had the right shoes and jeans and haircut... if I had the expensive car, I could've probably managed to fit in more. But I was tired of trying so hard only to get laughed at and talked about. And there was no way I could afford to fit in anyway. Not at the schools I attended.

So rather than try to fit in, I was able to figure out who I was sooner than a lot of other people. As a 36-year-old, I firmly believe this.

I'm not saying I didn't have my gazillion moments of insecurities; but I was basically forced to figure out who I was and accept who I was because if I didn't, nobody else was going to for me and I may as well have just killed myself.

But I couldn't do that. I had some hope (thank you Bryan Adams) and I was an Aunt (by 13) and I took my Aunthood very serious. I refused to let down my kids.

By senior year of high school, I was OK with who I was and the fact that I didn't fit in. I hated the school I was attending and the kids that were in the area. They looked the same, they all liked the same things, ate the same things, went to the same places. It was like living in some sort of really bad television show.

In my 20s, socializing was easier and while I didn't necessarily fit in and match every other 20-something-year old (never went away to school and did the whole sorority thing, never went clubbing, never went on Spring Break, etc), it didn't matter as much. I didn't feel as different in my 20s like I did in my teens, but I also didn't feel like I was being anything other than myself.

Now in my 30s, none of that really matters. At least to me it doesn't. By the time you hit your 30s, I think most people evolve quite a bit, which is probably why many end up married and with families. They have nothing to really prove anymore, they are who they are and they're living life the way they want to.

Or something. Ha.

I don't know what I'm getting at other than for the first time in my life since I was a pre-teen, I've never wanted to feel more "normal".

I want to be the cliche 36-year-old woman who's running ragged trying to keep up with her kids, her house, her job, her husband. I want to have wrinkles invading my face and sleep invading my eyes because I'm exhausted from keeping up with it all. I want to have to get up at the crack ass of dawn to make sure everyone is ready to go: lunches packed, breakfast on the table, kids clean and dressed. I want to go to PTA meetings and help my kids tie their shoes, read and write. I want to have a preteen or early teenager and have to deal with their annoying hormonal attitudes. I just want to be a normal 36-year-old and I hate feeling like I'm 10, if not 15 years behind everyone else.
Did I do this to myself? Did I try so hard to be different when I was younger that it became who I am and always will be?


I know a lot of this is my own fault. I didn't start really living life until about 10 years ago. Instead, I waited for things to happen to me instead of making them happen for me. So yeah, I guess I did do this to myself.

Fuck me sideways, my poor kid (won't even put an 's' in parentheses next to 'kid' because I'll be so fucking lucky with one healthy child at this point in my fucking life), should I be blessed to have one, will have a grandmother for a Mom. :(

I really really hate that time moves so fucking fast sometimes.


Angie said...

Ha! I'm a goober, I know. I'm not entirely happy with the new layout, but it's less boring than the old one. I need to find it in a color that isn't bright neon blue/green.

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