There’s a new series on TV called, Younger, starring Sutton Foster, that is so fun. The concept is of a newly divorced mother trying to re-enter the work force at 40, and being turned down due to her age by interviewers in their 20’s. While ridiculous on its face, there are truths, or at least issues, I can relate to.
Not a fan of aging, or of people complaining about being old, or how old they are, and blah, blah, blah, I so relate to this character.
The ideas of youthful freedom are as tantamount as the inexperience and relative irresponsibility of being young. So while I complain about those who complain about being old, I see the bounty of perspective. I see how each and every day led to me to where I am, and I wouldn’t care to repeat much of that time.
I learned about betrayal, heartache, false friends, misguided trust, and self-reliance. Being my own best friend was hard-gained, and learning that being alone was alright took several years.
It was miserable when I saw younger people see me as older. It was truly fucking awful, but what could I do? I couldn’t afford surgery to try to stay perpetually 20, and even if I could, why would I want to? I was there! So, my twenties sucked – a lot of it. I also had a lot of fun. My thirties came quicker than I expected, but there ya go – it happened, and so did my forties…
Acceptance is a bitch sometimes. If I could disguise myself and be seen as young, and get a do-over, what a different time it would be. It’s universal: the desire to be young and yet have a wise perspective. Twenty-somethings might never feel that way, but wait until they hit forty. The difference is like looking out, or down, from a high cliff rather than ground level. Whether you know what to do with that vantage point is dependent on many factors, but the lucky few who understand their worth and their abilities get to make a pretty good life for themselves and their loved ones.
It’s not a magic formula, I know. There are those who are confident and capable and life is a douche-bag to them anyway, but usually, perseverance can lead them through the rough patches.
And there will be rough patches. I don’t care how gilded a life is, it isn’t exempt from some form of hell. Perhaps I’d gladly exchange my hell for theirs, but hell it is.
So, unless I can radically change my life, it would be wiser for me to accept where I am.
I guess I can accept it, but I don’t approve of it.
© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current