Skip to main content

That Some Kinda Way Kinda Day

You know how you can feel "some kinda way," but not really know why? It finally hit me why I'm feeling some kinda way today.

I am officially old.

Now, I must admit that this wasn't a new revelation. As a human, I've been aging since the day I was born. I fight it to the death with hair dye, cute clothes, etc. But yesterday -- the same day I would've celebrated my one-year anniversary with New Boo -- I found out that I need new glasses. Not just ANY new glasses. I need progressive lenses. If you're not familiar with that terminology, it's basically the new way to say you need bifocals.

I was crushed, to say the least.

Here I am, a single woman with no children and no prospects for a husband with graying hair and now a need for bifocals. Who the hell is going to want me now? What the hell am I supposed to do? With every other thing that's happened this year, I think I've tried to be positive and hold on to hope that it could happen for me. This diagnosis -- while I was able to be pleasant at my doctor's office -- really has sent me into a tailspin.

It's almost like saying that everything I ever wanted has officially passed me by.

Maybe I'm overreacting. I know it's possible. But I really don't know what to do. And of course, there's really no one I can talk to that'll understand exactly how I feel. Everyone will try to tell me that my life isn't over. And they'll be right -- a prescription for progressive lenses isn't a cancer diagnosis. But right now, it feels as life-ending.

If the glasses don't look good, I'll never be able to go out again -- at least not to the lounges and clubs reserved for my younger friends. If I was safely ensconced in a marriage -- or at the very least a relationship with potential -- I could talk to my man about it and he could tell me that I was crazy or that it really doesn't matter because he loves me just the way I am.

So here I am...stuck with the sum total of my thoughts. In most cultures, this would be an ice cream, wine, or some other vice kinda night. But I kinda don't want to do that. I kinda want to make the wings I thawed out and get some McDonald's fries to go with them. That way, I can be semi-healthy as I wallow.

And yes, I'm going to wallow tonight. But once it's over, I'm going back to my life. I'm going to remember that I'm loved regardless of whether I have a man in my life. I'm going to try to figure out how I can be nice to all the kids in my life so that they won't scoff at caring for me when I get too old to do it myself. And I'm going to remember that I'm enough and I'm okay just the way I am.

That's tomorrow. Tonight, we wallow.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

He's Gone...For Real

My uncle died. He actually ceased to live. I don't know how to handle this. Even though he was my mother's brother, he was so much more than that to me. He was the coolest cat on the block, He set the standard that every man had to meet. He was the one I compared every man in my life to. For all intents and purposes, he was my de facto dad. I am stunned. I feel like someone knocked the wind out of my body. I grew up watching him. If he sat up straight, I wanted to sit up straight. I once caught him standing up to pee. I thought I'd do that when I grew up, too. (You can just imagine that conversation). That's the thing...he never shied away from my craziness. When I discovered what a father was -- at the tender age of five -- I purposed in my heart to find one for myself. I asked every man I knew, including him, if they'd be my daddy. He said, "I can't be your dad. I'm your uncle." When I pressed, he gently explained that he already had a significan...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Middle Aged Rant

I am single. I’ve never had a husband. I’ve never given birth to a child. I’ve never lived with a man over six months. I am 54. I’m not classically pretty. I’m overweight. I’m not very tall. My brother says I’m a unicorn. My friends are kind enough not to make me feel small. My mother mentions in passing that she wants me to find a husband. I try not to be sad about my state. I’ve lived a life that some would find enviable. I had my dream job, met and interviewed great people, made great friends, and traveled all over the world. I have a new career that I find oddly fulfilling. Men don’t always like that. Some of them are jealous because I’m not easily impressed. Some are jealous because I’ve done things they haven’t. Some are jealous because I’ve lived on both coasts. I don’t know what to do. I can’t change my life – not that I want to. I can’t change my past – not that I want to. I can’t change myself –not that I want to. I just want someone to see me, not the image I present. I want...
Post a Comment
Read more

I Own My Tears

I own my tears. I used this as a hashtag on a Facebook post. I was talking about the movie, "The Fault in Our Stars." If you've seen it, you know what I mean, and I won't spoil it for you. Of course, you know me -- it's deeper than that. I need to say it out loud... I own my tears. New Boo meant the world to me. He really did. Our relationship meant the world to me. It really, really did. And now it's over and he's gone -- seemingly for good. That makes me cry more than I want to, and more than I have ever imagined I would. And while I hate it, I need to do this. I need to mourn this thing in its entirety because it has truly changed my life. I own my tears. I own the fact that I am hurt. I own the fact that I'm mourning a relationship that I wanted to work more than life itself. I wanted to be a part of a couple, and eventually a family. That may well happen for me one day. Today, though, it doesn't look likely. So yes, I cry. And you ...
1 comment
Read more