So here we are, on the 28th anniversary of my birth. Man, that makes me sound old. But seriously, as I’m (slowly) coming to the end of my 20s, I am starting to realize that aging definitely has its goods. I used to think that getting older was all bad, but really it’s not. In fact, I am proud of my age. And women who refuse to talk about their age, or act so self-conscious about it, are missing the point… but I digress.
From 19 until 24, I was in an abusive relationship. I thought it was love. I thought love had to be painful and complicated. After all, doesn’t it make sense that your feelings are hurt all the time? It shows you care, right? I remember the last year into the relationship, I was even getting ready to settle. I had accepted the idea that I was going to be with an asshole for “the rest of my life” – because we had been together for so long, how was I supposed to ever be single after that? My clock was ticking, might as well stay with him. Right? One of my girls kept telling me “don’t settle for half-ass.” She was right, of course but I was scared: how could I just leave and give up on everything? That was just the problem. I had spent the whole time in that stupid relationship trying to make it work. What an idiot. When he finally left me, I cried tears of relief.
I was almost 25, single and freaking out. My damn clock was ticking even louder by then. Was I going to be “one of these women who has her first kid at 35?!” Hell no. I don’t know why but just the thought of that freaked me out. But then I realized that I had been wasting the last 4 and a half years thinking about that, trying to make a fucked up relationship fit my plan. What if the universe just had a different plan for me? I just needed to stop trying to control everything. And when I did, life became good.
When I met my husband, I finally understood what a relationship, a real one based on love not power, was supposed to be about. We never fought. We have been together for over 3 years, and we have had 1 fight. Yes, that’s it. 1. With him, thanks to him, I learned that a relationship should not hurt. I learned that it was possible to disagree and talk things out. I learned that every disagreement does not have to turn into a screaming match. I learned that I can have my own opinions without being scared. I learned that I can express my feelings freely without being judged. I learned to be loved.
We got married 1 year and a half after we met. We were ready. 10 months later we welcomed our baby boy into this world. It has now been 7 months, and life is good.
I am getting older, and I am not afraid. I realize that my past is not me. It has helped me become who I am today, it has shaped some aspects of my personality… but I am not my past. We only move forward, so why be afraid of another year? I am not anymore. My age is a symbol of how far I have made it. It is a reminder that life goes on. It keeps me grounded and and kindly whispers to me here and there, that I am lucky to be here today.
Maybe, I am getting wiser after all…. until I turn 40, ’cause it’s just all downhill from there 😀