Thursday, June 17, 2010

Something to Look Forward To

When all else fails, grow something; so you always have something to look forward to.

I haven't been in a good mood lately.  Ever so often you come to moments in your life when you feel as though you are spending more time in the rain than in the sunshine.  The clouds are over my head and I feel as though they are following me as I try to step out from under them.  I am feeling my age, and I don't like it.

I stood in my makeshift garden this morning pruning and watering and taking the time to enjoy how well most of my plants are growing.  Each passing day brings more to see and look forward to.  But with each passing day of my own growth, I've been feeling a bit old.  I had dinner and drinks with some friends recently and I felt out of place.  Partially because I felt as though I was being left out of the conversation for a great part of the evening, but also because I would have preferred to be anywhere else with just the someone special I care about, than hanging at the bar with the group.

It's the truth that growing older isn't something that most people look forward to past the age of 21 or maybe 25.  Up until that point, getting older has positive perks.  We go from looking forward to turning double digits, and entering our teens, to turning 18 with the right to vote to gaining permission to drink alcohol or get to free and clear recognition of being an adult. It occurred to me that a few years ago that I am closer to 50 than 20; and that stings.  Don't get me wrong, at the age of 38, I feel more beautiful and generally attractive than I ever felt in my teens and twenties.  In fact, I feel more in control of my attractiveness and I love and appreciate my body more than ever before, with a level of confidence that even surprises me sometimes.

With that said, ever so often I can't help but feel old.  People tell me all the time that I don't look my age, but I see the years looking back at me in the mirror and it troubles me.  I am wildly attracted to a much younger man.  He is handsome, smart, fun to be with and every moment I spend with him is filled with doubt.  Waking up next to him causes me to ask myself what he really sees when he looks at me.  My friends constantly remind me that getting emotionally involved with him would be a mistake because it can't go anywhere, and for him, it's just fun.  They see what I fear; the whole world of opportunities lays before him, while choices in my life grow smaller.  He has decades before the necessity to settle down occurs while the window on my reproductive life has slowly begun to close. 

That simple measure of being able to bear children proves womanhood in a way no other thing can; and after 26 years, sometime within the next decade that ability with pass from my hands; and I am afraid.  I'm afraid of what that means.  It doesn't bother me that I don't have children now, but I don't now doubt my ability to do so.  Right now, I am woman, in every way that counts and matters to the rest of the world, but only for right now.

They say you should grow something so you always have something to look forward to.  Each spring we watch as plants renew and rebirth themselves, while each summer we watch as they bear their fruit.  Each day there is something new and exciting to look forward to.  I'm struggling to find something to look forward to in my own growing process.  If this is the most beautiful time in my life, what comes next?  How do you find the willingness to be curious about the next step without being afraid to embrace it?

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Father's Day Lessons on Losing

Yesterday, my half-sister's Facebook status update said she was so happy she had a father who was always there for his daughter when she needed him; and thanked him for being her Super-Man.

Most of the women I know love their daddies, with a love that rings of caring, trust, but most of all presence.  For them, he's the man who provided for them, loved their mother, and sometimes softened the blows of an often harsh world.  I cannot share their view.

For me, Father's Day is a ticking time bomb.  It is a day that reminds me of loss; that my father chose not to be a part of my life.  Seeing my half-sister's update angered me.  It angered me because even at 38 years old there's that child inside of me that is jealous.  A girl who fiercely argued when I told people that I had a father, but I just didn't know where he was; the same girl who smiled politely when friends excitedly introduced their fathers and I realized that I was the only one who didn't really have one.

It was what brought me to a moment of clarity; an epiphany.  I was sick, laying in a hospital bed, and it occurred to me that if I died my father wouldn't know, and he'd hear it from someone in a passing conversation.  So I decided I no longer wanted to need a father.  Wanting a father who ignored my existence just made me feel worse than not having one.  Even now when I'm attracted to a guy, I jump right in, but wonder how long it'll be before he grows tired or restless of me and leaves. 

Right now, I'm losing someone that I care very much for.  He's slowly slipping out of my life and there's nothing I can do about it.  I don't want to be sad and I was sure I was finally old enough not to care.  I was wrong.  The child in me is peeking out, and she's feeling something that's become the norm, loss.

I truly believe we have to learn how to lose.  I feel like a loser; because my father taught me how.  He confirmed that some girls get abandoned.  He proved that some men don't stay, and he reminds me every Father's Day that some women simply fade into the background, and cease to matter to the "men in their lives."

So this Father's Day, a girl I barely know is telling the world about an amazing father that I only know as a cheater who abandoned me.  And another woman has become the focus of attention of the man I care for.  The emotional toll makes me feel like I'm wearing a sign that says "Father Knows Best & I LOSE!!!"