I was thinking the other morning...
The reason we women (in my opinion) seek the fountain of youth or any other means to stay young be it hair dye, workout regimes or even plastic surgery is not so that we will be forever 21 (god forbid) but to hold on to the people we love or the work we love or anything else that is valuable to us that with aging we feel we might lose.
People in general do not view aging well. Instead of it being something to look forward to, we see it as something to be avoided at all costs. Instead of growing wiser and happier within ourselves, pleased with what we have achieved, or the life we have created for ourselves, we see it as time running out. We perceive our usefulness coming to an end and our appeal lessening.
I always thought that people were crazy for worrying about getting old – admittedly this was in my teens – I couldn’t wait to be able to drive, have a credit card, and go to all these wonderful places only older people were allowed in. To be able to do what I wanted, when I wanted and how I wanted was something to look forward to not to wish away.
Now, fast-forward a few years and I get it!
I enquired about Botox from a friend recently and, because of a severe aversion to needles, have yet to go through with it but believe that in the near future, with said friend holding my hand (and copious amounts of pharmaceuticals) I will have it done.
This is not so that I can look 21 forever. It is because I’m scared.
My husband and I have been together for 11 years. In that time I have been required to wear many hats: Friend, lover, confidante, wife, mother, nurse, psychologist, negotiator, teacher...
One hat I realised I haven’t worn in a while is ME.
Who am I? I have been so busy being all these things for other people (and loving it) that I haven’t taken the time to be me. What do I like? Who am I? The answer: I don’t know! The scary thing is that’s the honest truth.
That got me thinking, if I don’t know who I am and what I want, then how can I expect people to love me for who I am? Does my husband still love who I used to be? Is there any part of her left in me, and if so where is she?
I was the banana in the stilettos dancing on the table, the one who loved to ride on the back of his superbike going waaaay over the speed limit, the one who would agree to a spontaneous holiday away and need 5 min to pack, the one who always said that I would try (just about) anything once.
Am I still that person? Can I afford to be that person with a husband and 2 kids? No I can’t. Then what part of me still exists that my husband fell in love with?
He is still the handsome man I fell in love with, perhaps even more handsome now (MEN!!!). He is still exciting and adventurous and does all these crazy fun things. Why would someone like that be in love with me? What if he had met who I am now instead of the younger version of me?
I don’t weigh the same as I did, I don’t do the same crazy things I used to do and I am not nearly as care free and spontaneous as I used to be.
Well perhaps I can get Botox and regain some of who I used to be...
But is that really the answer? Surely not.
I love my husband, I love my children and I love my life. Why then do I feel unfulfilled? Why am I scared? Do other women feel this way? How do I fix it and make it right?
Ok million dollar question: How do I regain some of the person I used to be, while finding out who I am now, and all without jeopardizing this wonderful life that I have?
My solution: I think I’ll try rock climbing on for size!
Watch this space for what is sure to be an adventure filled with bumps, bruises, aching sore muscles and definitely some less than graceful moments...
Ciao for now
