I turned 35 this year. That in and of itself isn't anything special, except for the fact that I'm still 24 in my head. I always saw my 30s as the place where I'd get it all figured out. I'd become that well put together woman that had it all. I'd know how to schedule my life. I'd make time for me without the guilt. I'd have the perfect work/family/life balance. I'd stop making stupid mistakes in my checkbook. I'd be fitter, brighter and all around awesome.
Yeah. No.
You know what happened? I turned 35.
That's it.
There was no mystical key to life given to me. No secret manual or guidelines bestowed upon my newly 35 year old head. There was no magical moment where everything aligned and I became one with the universe.
You know what did happen?
I still screwed up my checkbook. I still made impulse buys I'd later regret. Dinner was still being slightly burned/undercooked/unplanned while I tried to do dishes. My house is still a mess. I still don't know the answer to life, the universe and everything. (Apart from 42, that is.)
But you know what? It's ok.
Life isn't supposed to be one smooth ride. It's not supposed to be perfect. That's not life. That's a SIMS game. You're supposed to make mistakes. It's how you learn. You're supposed to not have enough time in the day. It's how you learn what's most important. You're supposed to have a dirty house. Okay, I made that last one up. But seriously, if it's a choice between making money freelancing or cleaning house, you can guess which one wins.
The crazy idea of the perfectly put together woman with nary a stray hair, that perfect life/work/family balance while wearing great heels doesn't exist. Sure, sometimes we can pull it off for a little while, but really, who wants to? I like my crazy life. All the ups and downs make for some interesting times and tales. I might not always enjoy it while I'm experiencing it, but if I learn something, then hey… I'll consider it a success.
Turning 35 was about learning. Learning who I am, and who I will continue to be. I can't change my habits, or my personality. I'm learning to be comfortable in who I am, but it won't always be perfect. In fact, there's a distinct possibility that I'll be wearing my exercise clothes to clean house, have stale cheerios and/or spit up in my hair and attempting to defrost a mystery container of food for dinner.
And that's okay.
Because it's who I am.
Yeah. No.
You know what happened? I turned 35.
That's it.
There was no mystical key to life given to me. No secret manual or guidelines bestowed upon my newly 35 year old head. There was no magical moment where everything aligned and I became one with the universe.
You know what did happen?
I still screwed up my checkbook. I still made impulse buys I'd later regret. Dinner was still being slightly burned/undercooked/unplanned while I tried to do dishes. My house is still a mess. I still don't know the answer to life, the universe and everything. (Apart from 42, that is.)
But you know what? It's ok.
Life isn't supposed to be one smooth ride. It's not supposed to be perfect. That's not life. That's a SIMS game. You're supposed to make mistakes. It's how you learn. You're supposed to not have enough time in the day. It's how you learn what's most important. You're supposed to have a dirty house. Okay, I made that last one up. But seriously, if it's a choice between making money freelancing or cleaning house, you can guess which one wins.
The crazy idea of the perfectly put together woman with nary a stray hair, that perfect life/work/family balance while wearing great heels doesn't exist. Sure, sometimes we can pull it off for a little while, but really, who wants to? I like my crazy life. All the ups and downs make for some interesting times and tales. I might not always enjoy it while I'm experiencing it, but if I learn something, then hey… I'll consider it a success.
Turning 35 was about learning. Learning who I am, and who I will continue to be. I can't change my habits, or my personality. I'm learning to be comfortable in who I am, but it won't always be perfect. In fact, there's a distinct possibility that I'll be wearing my exercise clothes to clean house, have stale cheerios and/or spit up in my hair and attempting to defrost a mystery container of food for dinner.
And that's okay.
Because it's who I am.