I’m not 20 anymore…

I’m closer to 30 than I am to 20…it’s true. This has become more and more apparent to me this past year as I’ve journeyed to the age of 27. Things like my ever-growing preference for buying jeans from Reitman’s with word’s such as ‘comfort’ and ‘classic’ in the description of cut rather than ‘skinny’ and ‘extra-low’ and ‘young-supple-body’ have made it obvious that I’m growing-up. I now enjoy healthy helpings of fried onions, goat cheese, wine and various tasty cereals that are high in fiber instead of Slurpee’s (haven’t had one this summer) and Lucky Charms. Gone are the days of late nights without bags under my eyes….gone are the days of late nights in general. You know you’re growing-up when you not only say that you’d like to go to bed at 9:00 but you do go to bed at 9:00. I’ve found that I can no longer have coffee in the evenings without feeling the effects at 2:00 in the morning in which I’ll inevitably then stay awake thinking of all the bills that need to get paid and appointments that need to get made. I now have a preference for button-up shirts that will hide my little roll of extra skin, a reminder of both bundles that I’ve carried around, instead of logo t-shirts that let everyone walking past know that I’ve got an opinion about something or someone or that I’d rather be a vampire. My eyes have already started the ‘I can’t believe kids these days’ roll, more evidence of the drift from the desirable early twenties when you’re no longer on the receiving end of these. Heck, I’ve even started buying Christmas gifts mid-summer! I must be growing-up!

I’m not sure if most of the things are due to the fact that I’m growing-up or that my kids are growing-up. While it’s probably a combination of the two, part of my slow realization that I’m now more woman than girl has been brought about by Rhys starting school. I ran into a friend a little while ago that was saying she had a hard time believing that ‘we’ are old enough to have kids in school (she doesn’t have any kids). It’s true, I’m not the norm these days (in the circles that I run with at least). I even look around at the people who I graduated with and just now are most of them getting married and having their first child. James and I will be celebrating our 6 year anniversary soon…just after our son becomes a student. I might be alone in the ’27 with school-aged children’ category and yes, there are days where I feel quite young to be dealing with a 5-year-old, but I have to confess that I feel a certain sense of relief to see myself growing-up. I’m happy to be leaving the self-conscious, self-focused twenty-year-old ‘the world is my oyster’ mindset behind and opening-up to a more mature understanding of myself, my job and my life…granted this is a continual and ongoing process. I find that I am becoming more and more satisfied with tilling the little plot of land God has provided us with (figuratively and literally) and falling asleep halfway through the paragraph in a good book. As I’ve inched my way closer to 30 I’ve begun to feel my heart blossom and I’ve witnessed this slow opening of my hands to what He would have me do.

I’ve heard it said that when you are in your twenties you discover all of the little bits and pieces about yourself, when you are in your thirties you are figuring out how they all fit together, and when you are in your forties you behold the puzzle and live it. I’ve never been thirty or forty so I can’t really say if this is accurate or not but I have very much felt that my twenties have been all about tromping through the jungles of my heart. There have been months, years even, where I’ve journeyed through the dark and lonely and dangerous places but I’ve also experienced the opposite; beautiful and wondrous to behold and discover. It could be that I’m nearing the end (or at least this leg) of this great expedition and am coming out on the other side with a deeper understanding of who I am. I still don’t know how everything fits together but I’m finally starting to feel comfortable in my own skin. I’m starting to appreciate different things about myself…like them even. I’m starting to acknowledge that I am good at certain things and that there are other things that I am not good at, and that’s okay.

No, I might not be able to party until 2 in the morning wearing a hot pink tube dress throwing back drinks with names that sound more like romance novels than something you should be consuming but I’m 100% okay with that. 100%. I’d much rather be baking in my kitchen or sewing at the table or curled-up on the couch reading an Amelia Bedelia book to my children.

I’m growing up and I’m okay with it. I love that I can sit with my husband and think back through our years together and feel like there is a history there. My children love asking questions and hearing about us. Being young or appearing young is such a desirable thing these days but I think it’s a bit overrated. Sure I’m slightly jealous of the fact that 16-year-old’s don’t have to watch what they eat for fear of a sudden onset of IBS but hey, now I’ve got some funny stories…..right?

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8 Comments

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8 responses to “I’m not 20 anymore…

  1. Brooke

    Bria – thank-you! I love your perspective on 27 – I also turned 27 this July and am totally content with ‘getting older’. This year was the first that someone told me I was nearing the ‘big 3-0’ (Oh, so this is the year that someone can mention 30!). It was a shocker but not in a bad way. Kids or no kids, growing out of the early 20’s has been a relief (not that I regret them), but these upper 20’s are going just fine.

    Oh, and I don’t know that you know that I secretly follow your blog. I love the mix of creative projects, kid adventures and introspective posts – I wish we could have gotten to know eachother better in Winnipeg – maybe one day when we move back that can happen.

    Thanks again! B

  2. Hildegard van der Spuy

    Never knew you were so good with the written word. You should write a book!

  3. Courtney

    I don’t know if I can say the same things you ar saying, because I’m 22. But, to tell the truth, I hate the fact that I’m getting older. I might be in the same general area as you when I’m there, but, I still feel 18. I have to constently remind myself that I’m 22, and that just makes me feel old. I don’t know what it is, but that’s just how I feel.

  4. ruth

    ohhhh yah.
    sista.
    well, when i was…younger…getting older used to DISTURB me alot…but now that i actually am older….i’m totally good with it.

    seriously, what is the fear of age that our culture has put on us. i never want to be ashamed to say OUTLOUD how old i am.

    love this post!

    ps btw i’m 38! and it’s great.

  5. Courtney

    I should add, I’m not ashamed to admit how old I am. It just feels old to me. Again, don’t know why.

  6. Trena Wanless

    love it. right there with it.

  7. Mom

    Great blog Bria. You are a beautiful women and a great mom, but still my little girl. Love ya!

  8. Pingback: So That’s That. | I've Come Undone

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