52. The other day was my 52nd birthday and as I write that I can hardly believe it. I remember my mom turning 50 and thinking, “she’s so old!” But that’s not how I feel. What I feel is that of a person whose life has kept me on my toes (figuratively speaking, of course). But I also feel the satisfaction of having so many unique and fun life experiences; of taking the sour lemons of my experiences and turning them into sweet lemonade. I feel accomplished and proud, and ready to see where my next chapter takes me. Sometimes I feel like I’ve lived more than one life, as the decades have been so different.
I remember my twenties being a decade of exploration and adventure. I never allowed myself to collect more possessions than would fit into my Nissan Sentra. I hated the feeling of being tied down and wanted to be able to pick up at a moment’s notice and start the next adventure; which I did, as I moved from Denver to Spokane, Wash., to Charleston, Ill., to Colorado Springs. I made collecting new friendships a passion and a hobby, and attempted to find my way by trial and error; and learning to live outside of my comfort zone. I have few regrets from that time period of my life, except buying in to a social code that told me, my life and worth were based on doing the things that were expected; getting married, starting a family and settling down.
My thirties started out with a bang and I was ready to hone in on where I was going and how I would make my mark. Instead, they were marked by my paralyzing injury and having to start back at square one. It was a difficult time to have had the accident as many of my friends seemed to be finding their way in the world, getting married, having families. In contrast, I felt like I was feeling around in the dark, trying to reinvent my life and often feeling left out. But eventually, I created the new me—not the traditional way many of my friends had, but by being an athlete. I traded kids and diapers for swim workouts and race days. I learned that because my life took a turn off the beaten path, that I would have to get used to learning to feel good about myself, while marching to the beat of my own drum.
For me, my forties were about trying to prove to myself that I was worthy of all the things life had to offer and getting back to my career, getting married and somehow getting back on track with ‘where I was supposed to be’ (whatever that means). I gave back to my community through starting a nonprofit, survived as a solopreneur, and got comfortable in my skin. But there was always something lurking from the shadows. EXPECTATION. And trying to live up to it, even if it was only my perception, it made a mark. To believe you must do what everyone tells you life IS—getting married, having a particular career, not wanting spending your time training for sport, settling down, having kids and being “responsible.” I often felt I was fighting against this traditional path, against the norm, against myself, and against everything I had been taught to believe about life. (I also learned that we define ourselves by the most arbitrary things: jobs, kids, how happy you can look on social media, the size of our paychecks, the size of our houses. And through that, we let other people decide how we will feel…big, small, successful, not).
But then you hit 50, and an interesting thing happens. You realize that no one really even cared how you lived your life. Maybe they were trying to live vicariously through you, or maybe secretly wanted to you to fall short. Maybe they had no opinion at all. Why? Because they are busy worrying about their own choices, what they do and how much money they make. (And I think we inherently know that there are skeletons in every closet. There’s no such thing as the perfect life.) And you realize that if you made it this far, your days are numbered. And that number could still be huge…it could be another 50 years. Or maybe not. You become more aware of your own mortality and how it could take the long side or conversely be a year, or a day. We see friends going through the gut wrenching pains of mid-life, illness, divorce, whatever it is that wasn’t part of the plan. And we see just how human each one of us is. In my own life, I realize how much time and happiness I could have spared, not worrying about expectations or how it was supposed to be and wondering if I was I doing what I ‘should.’
In my 50’s I have decided it’s time for life now to be on my terms. I’m not sure what that means exactly yet, but there are a few things I now know:
This is MY life, and there aren’t any rules. My only job is to live, in the way my talents and gifts allow. Because if I don’t do it now, I’ll never do it. And I want to live whatever crazy life God has given to me. I accept that it’s not perfect. It’s hopelessly dysfunctional, yet it’s mine. And I love that I’ve molded it. I love that I’ve tackled every obstacle that’s been handed to me. And I love who I’ve become. And I’m not going to continue worrying about what career path I’ve taken or how much money I made or if I ‘did it right.’ Because I’m me, and now at 52, I realize that that was all that was ever expected of me. The rest is just gloss, some weird ‘this-is-how-it’s-supposed-to-go’ thing, that’s all made up. It’s just about appearances. So middle-school-drama. So, hats off to the younger generations who aren’t settling for the norm. Who are turning expectations on their heads. I think we can all learn from them and I wish it didn’t take 50 years for me to have learned to do that.
I’m glad that I am finally allowing myself to become free (still a work in progress, of course) if only in my mind, of what expectations I thought were placed on me. I’m making my new decisions based on living the best way I can, in the time I have left-whether it’s days or months or years-because I no longer have to prove myself to anyone. I am me. I have become who I have become and I love her. I embrace her. She is crazy, yeah, but she’s a cool kind of crazy. She’s got it under control and isn’t going to apologize. Just take it and love it and appreciate all there is out there for her and experience it on her terms. Cause that’s the way it should be. And so it will be.
