I'm not sure if it's something that happens when you reach a certain age and find yourself without a husband and children; or if it's a reaction to plain old curiousity; but lately, I find myself increasingly curious about what happened to the men I dated throughout my life. I can't help but wonder whether they became good husbands, good fathers, good men.
At least, that's what I was thinking when I "came across" my first college boyfriend on facebook. There he was looking not a day older than the day I last saw him at age 20. After three weeks I'm sure that he's not going to respond to my message; and while I can understand why he wouldn't, I can't help but feel a little hurt that he isn't just as curious.
I know we should grow out of the inadequacies that we had as children; but sometimes it surprises me that no matter how old I get I often still feel like that girl I was in high school and college. We become adults and supposedly grow out of cliques, yet we find ourselves standing outside of clubs waiting to be chosen to get in; or hanging with the right people to get invited to the right after work happy hours.
Somehow, no matter how far past our high school years we get, we can't seem to get far enough past them to actually get away.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Growing Old Gracefully or I Don't Think I'm Old Enough for That
I found a gray hair, where? Is this a bad joke? Call me ignorant, but I actually believed that the aging process would be slower if I didn't have kids and activate all of those "special" hormones that come with pregnancy, pregnancy weight, childbirth and breast-feeding. What a wake up call I received as I found myself eating less, yet doing more to maintain my weight; and being forced to become obsessed to lose any weight.
Some people think I look younger than my age, but I don't; I see the gray hairs - in unmentionable places, and the lines that weren't there in that picture sitting on the bedside table. And don't even ask about the sudden tightness in my clothes around the tummy area.
I can't help but look at my 24 year old cousin that everyone calls my twin; and think that she looks 20 years younger in my eyes. I can't help but cringe every time I make a reference to something that happened 20 plus years ago that I remember vividly; or smile when I realize that a friend wasn't even born when that event happened.
Aging means wisdom, life experience and knowledge, yet somehow lately, aging has become a bad word in my vocabulary.
So every night before bed I'm sure to wash any makeup off and apply night cream. And in the morning after my shower I'm sure to apply moisturizer and sunscreen, to my face and skin. And throughout the day I drink almost a gallon of water to keep my skin as close to clear as possible (which isn't as clear and it used to be); and count calories to stay on track. I apply my Crest white strips an hour a day to keep my smile bright and youthful; and every 6 weeks I update my hairstyle or get those grayer every time roots dyed dark. And somehow I have to smile because at the end of the day; this is what they call growing old gracefully.
Some people think I look younger than my age, but I don't; I see the gray hairs - in unmentionable places, and the lines that weren't there in that picture sitting on the bedside table. And don't even ask about the sudden tightness in my clothes around the tummy area.
I can't help but look at my 24 year old cousin that everyone calls my twin; and think that she looks 20 years younger in my eyes. I can't help but cringe every time I make a reference to something that happened 20 plus years ago that I remember vividly; or smile when I realize that a friend wasn't even born when that event happened.
Aging means wisdom, life experience and knowledge, yet somehow lately, aging has become a bad word in my vocabulary.
So every night before bed I'm sure to wash any makeup off and apply night cream. And in the morning after my shower I'm sure to apply moisturizer and sunscreen, to my face and skin. And throughout the day I drink almost a gallon of water to keep my skin as close to clear as possible (which isn't as clear and it used to be); and count calories to stay on track. I apply my Crest white strips an hour a day to keep my smile bright and youthful; and every 6 weeks I update my hairstyle or get those grayer every time roots dyed dark. And somehow I have to smile because at the end of the day; this is what they call growing old gracefully.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Feeling like 17 All Over Again
When I was 17 years old I had a huge crush on a guy on the school track team. He was pretty popular and I was thrilled to be his friend; and dreamed of being the girl in our school who finally got his attention. Fortunately, his friendship was available, unfortunately, his romantic attention was not.
One afternoon after a weekend track meet I sat in the bleachers waiting to walk with him to the train station. He told me that I didn't have to wait for him, that he was okay. I protested saying no, I'm happy to wait. Silly 17 year old me didn't quite understand that he was saying that he was waiting for someone else. Instead, I got my feelings hurt when a young lady walked up and asked him if he was ready to leave and he turned and walked away. Sadly, I also didn't know that the entire school was waiting for me outside of the field to see what would happen when I saw the new lady in my young man's life. To say I walked away devastated is an understatement. I made it to the end of the field without crying. I made it to the end of the field, not the end of the sidewalk where everyone, friends and foes stood excitedly waiting for my reaction. And that's where I lost it; and the tears fell and the embarrassment started; and the reputation I had for keeping my composure in all situations fell apart.
My classmates got a perfect view of my vulnerabilities and the perfectly created shield was shattered. I promised in that moment that I would never leave myself in that position again; and in a strange turn of events - last night I had the opportunity to prove it.
I have a huge crush on a "young" man that I have become friends with this year. As luck should have it; he enjoys my company too. So last night we spent the evening hanging out doing everything from watching MJ videos and playing guitar hero, to just talking as I watched him play his guitar for me. Then, his cell phone buzzed and he informed me that a young lady was on her way over. He explained that I was welcome to stay until she got there, but then it would be time to end the evening.
A curious, braver woman would have stayed to see the young lady that had his attention; but those tearful moments at Midwood Field returned in a flash and I was once again 17 years old being told that I didn't need to wait. So 20 years later, I said no. I said, "I don't want to know who you're sleeping with." He innocently responded that his friend was really nice and that he wanted me to meet her. I took the out and instead let that handsome, fascinating young man that I can't seem to remove from my thoughts, walk me to my car and watch as I drove away - 'before' the arrival of the young lady that would be finishing my amazing evening.
Call me a coward, an idiot, a wuss. I'll accept every name in the book; but one tearful walk out of a building is all I can handle in a lifetime; and if 37 doesn't give you permission to walk away - you have to give it to yourself. I woke up still feeling 17 this morning, with that timid feeling that comes from a disappointment you can't fix, a lost opportunity that can't be reclaimed, or the moment that you realize that you are a brand new owner of a beautiful pair of green eyes, the monster known as jealousy.
Just call me 17, with 20 years experience.
One afternoon after a weekend track meet I sat in the bleachers waiting to walk with him to the train station. He told me that I didn't have to wait for him, that he was okay. I protested saying no, I'm happy to wait. Silly 17 year old me didn't quite understand that he was saying that he was waiting for someone else. Instead, I got my feelings hurt when a young lady walked up and asked him if he was ready to leave and he turned and walked away. Sadly, I also didn't know that the entire school was waiting for me outside of the field to see what would happen when I saw the new lady in my young man's life. To say I walked away devastated is an understatement. I made it to the end of the field without crying. I made it to the end of the field, not the end of the sidewalk where everyone, friends and foes stood excitedly waiting for my reaction. And that's where I lost it; and the tears fell and the embarrassment started; and the reputation I had for keeping my composure in all situations fell apart.
My classmates got a perfect view of my vulnerabilities and the perfectly created shield was shattered. I promised in that moment that I would never leave myself in that position again; and in a strange turn of events - last night I had the opportunity to prove it.
I have a huge crush on a "young" man that I have become friends with this year. As luck should have it; he enjoys my company too. So last night we spent the evening hanging out doing everything from watching MJ videos and playing guitar hero, to just talking as I watched him play his guitar for me. Then, his cell phone buzzed and he informed me that a young lady was on her way over. He explained that I was welcome to stay until she got there, but then it would be time to end the evening.
A curious, braver woman would have stayed to see the young lady that had his attention; but those tearful moments at Midwood Field returned in a flash and I was once again 17 years old being told that I didn't need to wait. So 20 years later, I said no. I said, "I don't want to know who you're sleeping with." He innocently responded that his friend was really nice and that he wanted me to meet her. I took the out and instead let that handsome, fascinating young man that I can't seem to remove from my thoughts, walk me to my car and watch as I drove away - 'before' the arrival of the young lady that would be finishing my amazing evening.
Call me a coward, an idiot, a wuss. I'll accept every name in the book; but one tearful walk out of a building is all I can handle in a lifetime; and if 37 doesn't give you permission to walk away - you have to give it to yourself. I woke up still feeling 17 this morning, with that timid feeling that comes from a disappointment you can't fix, a lost opportunity that can't be reclaimed, or the moment that you realize that you are a brand new owner of a beautiful pair of green eyes, the monster known as jealousy.
Just call me 17, with 20 years experience.
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