Today, on I CAN CONTROL THE FUTURE WITH MY FEELINGS: For whatever reason, 36 feels like a safe, good, young age to me. There’s a roundness to it, a lightness, a youth. But then I think about turning 37 next year, and it has a danger, a sharpness, an oldness. 38 feels round again, safe and young again, but in an old way. 39 feels like a cliff, 40 like campground at high elevation with built in firepits, a stunning view. Even, odd. I now know that I will turn 37 and not yet be a mom (tho perhaps in growth stage?) I keep fixating on that number and punishing myself for it. I also keep fixating on the ages of women younger than me, who already have their kids / are currently growing them, and I keep feeling behind, like I’m supposed to be ahead but not, which is another way to say behind, which I already said, because I feel it to the point of repetition. And so, I’ll remind myself here:
Things that are NOT competitions:
- who breathes the most per minute
- who grows their hair the fastest
- Having Kids
Things that ARE competitions:
- Races
- The Great British Baking show
- Competitions