Tag Archives: aging

A curious thought

How is it that everything in your life can change, almost completely, yet feelings don’t? And I mean real feelings, not fleeting sensations of anger or desire, but deep sentiments. The kind of sentiments you feel in the very core of your soul.

We seem to have this innate ability to forget wrong-doings, or the exchange of harsh words, but only when the feelings run deep. The deeper they run, the more we seem to overlook.

On the other end, when your feelings towards someone are less than loving, we can cut them out of our lives at the slightest infraction. Those people we can’t see to forgive, no matter how minor the injury.

It makes me wonder, if the things we find offensive and the words we hold against others ever truly offend us, or are we just acting offended because society expects us to?

Personally, I’ve been in situations where I was lied to and when I found out, I have to say that I forgave him the second I found out. But, I still punished him for the lie. I held it against him because I was supposed to, I mean, what kind of person doesn’t get mad when they find out they were lied to? What kind of person understands the liar’s situation and just, well, forgives them? An idiot, I thought.

Now that I’m older, and a little wiser I’d like to think, I realize that it was all an act and an unnecessary one too. But still, I know there are other actions I take that sometimes come as second nature, but I know they’re taught reactions because while they might be instant, they always feel a little off. Almost like you’re wearing someone else’s clothes, or playing a part in a play.

I mean, right?

Maybe I’m not making any sense, but it’s just a thought…a curious thought.

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Umm, errr…aging

When you’re a teenager, and even well into your twenties, people always tell you how much you’re going to change when you get older. How you’ll think differently and mature, and even outgrow some of your relationships. But you never really believe them. You might nod, and smile, and tell them you’re sure they’re right, but in the back of your naïve little brain you’re thinking yeah right. Maybe they changed, but you’re different. Right.

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Except, well, you’re not.

At the end of the day all those annoying people, packed with age and wisdom, were right and you did change. It wasn’t even like you had a choice. You just woke up one day and BAM!, you were different. Your opinions were different, your tastes were different and suddenly, you started craving the musical tunes that fueled your youth. It was hellooo 90s and goodbyeee techno.

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At least that’s what happened to me.

I turned 25, and had a minor emotional meltdown, and suddenly the career that I had spent the better part of a decade chasing seemed so…so pointless. I had gone from writing about news to fashion to events, and then to actually putting those big events together for a newspaper. Don’t get me wrong, I chose to become a journalist because I had something to say. I had a different opinion that most people I knew, mainly the much older people, but still – I had an opinion. Except, I never considered that I’d have to write about what other people (editors) wanted to publish and mostly have to keep my opinions to myself.

Then, somewhere between 26 and 27, I got old. When I say old, I mean like the doorman tells Debbie in Knocked Up, “I can’t let you in cause you’re old as fuck. For this club, you know, not for the earth.” The man has a point. Granted, I’m not Debbie’s age, but I’ve been partying since I was 14 years old, and in a few weeks that’s going to mean that I’ve been partying for 14 YEARS. I’m kind of over it, you know, I want to do something else.

Anything else, and who knows, I might just love it.

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To age or not to age?

I’m having a bit of a difficult time lately with my aging and growth process. People always say that your teenage years are the hardest, and yeah mine were kind of crazy, but my twenties are definitely a hundred times more challenging. I mean yes, my teens were filled with mood swings, emotional ups and downs at the drop of a hat and obscene hormone levels, but even with all that I felt more alive than anything.

And now, I can’t really figure out where I am or where I should be. I’ll admit I had a minor meltdown right before I turned 25 a few months back, but I handled it…or so I thought. It was unfortunate that my meltdown happened at work and in front of co-workers, but luckily I was able to stop the tears pretty fast. Anyway, the past few weeks I’ve really been thinking about everything that’s happened in the past 2 years. Everything that has brought me to where I am today.

I have this amazing job that I love, a great apartment, I mean I practically live in paradise and I have an incredible family and loved ones…and still. There’s something missing. It’s weird because, for the first time in my life, I’m living totally on my own with no help from my parents or a boyfriend and I should be feeling great. I should be feeling like the strong, independent young woman that I’ve become. Instead, I feel a little out of place.

Your twenties are supposed to be the time that you have to try things out. To make mistakes and really find yourself, which I think is great, but by settling into this small town in a corporate job in the middle of my twenties am I giving in too quickly? Am I rushing to fit into this new role now just because I’m recovering from the breakup? Yes, the breakup is still a factor in my life. Some people, like my ex, move on quickly and forgot about you within a week, and some people are like me and take the time to heal. So yeah, it’s taking me a while to completely get over someone that was such a huge part of my life for about a decade. It is what it is so deal with it.

I just wish I could pause things where they are now, go off and have a million life experiences in a handful of countries and then come back and be all grown up and responsible. Why is the timing on this kind of shit always so off? On top of all this, the fact that I’ve been feeling like such an outsider is just making me miss home. It has me actually talking about moving back to Miami in “what if” terms, which is a little scary too.

What would you do if it were you? How did you live up your twenties?

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