More often than not, I feel like some version of a thirteen year old impersonating a soon-to-be 30 year old woman. That's right. I will turn 30 this year. It won't happen for a few months and I can't say that I'm that anxious about it. In fact, I'm not anxious.
That is, I wasn't anxious. A conversation started recently among the Young Clergy Women Project about turning 30. I commented in the online forum with confidence. I said that I accepted the challenge and was ready to live into this new chapter in my life.
Somewhere over the arc of my afternoon, that confidence started to erode when I realized that 30 meant I was that much closer to 33. Tradition has it that Jesus died at 33. That's not what scares me. I'm scared that 33 will be the end of my days. You may have heard me say this before. And before you rush to concern, I know it's irrational. It's totally irrational. It's ridiculous. That doesn't mean that it doesn't scare me. My mom died at 33. She suffered a fate that no one should suffer then or now. She fell victim to cancer and her life was taken by disease. She was too young. And I'm just going to say it, I'm too young. There is still too much that I want to do. That's the challenge. I'm ready to be 30 and do all of those things that I've dreamed about -- like publishing a book or singing karaoke (that would be Musicman's idea) or writing a sermon I'm still proud of on Monday or getting married or even having children (my step-mother got all upset today when I said I might not be interested in having children. I think I may have dashed her hopes of grandchildren. Oops.) I want all of these things and yet my silly fear is that I won't get to because ... it's all over when I turn 33. Again, I know it's ridiculous. Fears are like that though.
5 comments:
For me it's 38.
I have a little longer, but I definitely tell people I don't anticipate living past 47...and sometimes I use that as an excuse not to plan for retirement. (yes, I know that's bad.)
I turned 30 in December...I didn't want to either. Almost every life thing I thought I would have done by now I haven't. I did get married just before I turned 29 but once upon a time, I thought all of my children would be born before 30. I'd be a wife and momma and life would be complete. Alas, that hasn't happened yet. But I have been assured that the 30's are even better than the 20's.
Been there! Done that!Totally empathize.
My father died at 56. The year after my same birthdayI woke with a knot of dread in my belly and a fog of anxiety in my mind.
At 76 I still remember that year VIVIDLY!
cOURAGE!
Twenty eight was the tough one for me. And now, nearly ten years later... I saw Benjamin Button yesterday, and nearly lost it for reasons what could have been a totally innocuous scene.
Post a Comment