That’s it. Tomorrow I’m officially 35. And that number sounds so small yet so big all at the same time. It’s painted with maturity and faith that makes me trust this adult life so much more. I understand women who say they feel more comfortable with themselves as they age (is this what I’m doing? Aging? It doesn’t feel like it.) because I feel more mature especially when I think back to 30, but change has really come to be in the last two years. I have evolved into this almost entirely new person. Don’t you think that’s a pretty big deal? And I’ve worked on me a lot. I’m going to continue to grow into this new me. I intend to. Isn’t that youth? Perhaps retaining youth somehow? To be the person you want to be. I’ve got this penchant for big changes, and this is one of them. We’re always growing, morphing, changing, dying, as we are then reborn, and moving more to becoming our own.
I’m getting better at living. So much better. I’m definitely a lot better at it than I was at 22, when I was calloused by life. And now, my zest for growth runs on maternal instincts like.all.the.time. I’m living the life I want for myself, on my terms, on my schedule. Though, I’m still learning. I have my days. Which is why I do take things, try to take things, day-to-day. It really is, to my surprise, so much easier to think about right now, than tomorrow.
Love, I admit, it too changes, evolves as we do. Fluctuates. There was a time when love was this constant dependency, it had to be this i-can’t–live-without-you! – feeling. Now that’s intense. I had to love with fervor. A maddening type of love. And if it wasn’t that, it wasn’t love. Now, love translates differently, deeply. There is now profound admiration, affection and respect. Some days it’s like a “friendship set on fire.” Other days, there is a calm and stillness that engulfs us. Like having a cup of afternoon tea. Or seeing a butterfly flutter its wings. You don’t believe in the same things all the time, but you share them and celebrate them with each other. And when he says, “Do what you need to do for you. Take care of yourself first. Go. Find yourself. Because I can’t do that for you,” I feel inspired, protected, challenged. It’s just the right kind of love nudging me forth. It’s a softer kind of love.
And Mami-hood. You know I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t talk about the most significant role I play. My god…does it change you. Life before was relatively effortless. Forget that you never sleep, or never sleep the same. This journey gives responsibility a whole new name. Before my son, being responsible was getting to work on time. Now, responsibility means taking care of an entirely dependent person! Teaching. Guiding. Loving. Playing. Staying home with my son was one of the best decisions I have ever made. Being able to be there every day, doing it all, makes us fortunate. Yes, it takes every morsel of my energy and self to do that every day, but it is worth it. Nothing makes me happier, nothing completes me more, than my son.
I’m 35. I like the sound of that so much more than I ever liked the sound of 25. I may be older now, but my heart feels a lot younger than it did in my 20’s. Which is why I would not want to go back in time. It was a time of so much insecurity and trying to figure out myself. Who am I? How much of my family do I want to hold on to? We’re gorgeous, but oblivious to it. The world’s possibilities are waiting for us and we don’t even see it. I wouldn’t trade places. I grew up. I grew up!
P.S. I’m in Spain with my husband and son (lookout for pictures on Instagram!). All is well with my soul.
P.P.S. Here’s the perfect song for 35.