The day I turned 30, I felt it. Almost as if a dark veil fell over me. Cliché, I know, but it surely wasn’t a positive feeling. I’m only four months in and ever since that day, unwelcomed surprises have been coming my way.
Before you get all excited, no, I am not referring to 30 as old as if to be dramatic and no, I’m no trying to insult anyone in that age bracket or over. So please calm down.
Chin, lip, nose. I never had any noticeable hair in these places before. It’s almost as if some kind of miracle hair growth treatment was unknowingly applied on parts of my body.
I always heard of women getting their stashes waxed and having to take care of unsightly stubble, but that would never be me. I thought I was lucky enough to not have this undesirable trait within my DNA. I was both naïve and wrong.
The other night, my son graciously pointed out my nose hair and then attempted to pull it. If my toddler was able to spot this, we have a problem on our hands. I no longer can be in a state of denial, believing only I can see these imperfections.
I never used to have to worry about what I consumed. Whether or not an item was healthy or high in calories was the extent to my evaluation to decide if I should eat something.
Every day, my body decides to react differently to certain food selections and ingredients. Watching what you eat is one thing, but having to dissect every dietary choice is exhausting.
Onions? Gives me heartburn.
Dairy? Makes me gassy.
Caffeine? Not past 3 p.m. otherwise I won’t be able to fall asleep.
As time goes on, the list of what I can’t ingest seems to be longer than what I can.
Listen to my body? I’ve never had to listen to my body before. I never really understood what the hell that meant until now.
Every day it seems like there is a new ache and pain. I could understand this as a result of my participation in some kind of strenuous activity. This is surely not the case. The most intense activity I’m currently involved in is running after my two toddlers and you better believe I feel it the next day. I have to be careful of how I bend, lift and watch my form when exercising. WTF?
Nighttime has become even more exciting. I wake up to pee. I wake up to drink water. I wake up to switch positions. What happened to the days of passing out and not waking until morning?
I never considered myself a trendy, hip person using the latest lingo and sayings. I could however follow along and understand what was being referred to and carry on a conversation, if need be.
Now? I have no idea what is going on. Squad goals? Lit? Basic?
And everything is abbreviated. Are we that lazy, we can’t finish words anymore?
Adorbs = Adorable
Sus = Suspect
Totes = Totally
Coming from the generation of OMG, LOL & BFF, I have no idea what OTP, DM & TBH mean.
I took the phrase ‘Netflix and chill’ in the literal sense – so much so, I almost bought a shirt with that saying labeled across the front. When contemplating purchasing said tee, I thought to myself, I love to watch Netflix and relax. It’s the best part of my night after the kids go to bed.
Can you imagine if I wore this shirt in public? Did I mention I’m 7-months pregnant and always have two toddler in tow? I’m sure all the parents at school pick-up would be thinking, no shit. It’s pretty obvious how much you like to ‘Netflix and chill’.
I now have to be comfortable being referred to as ma’am. Previously when someone called me ma’am, I brushed it off. It rarely occurred and when it did, it always came out of the mouth of a child who was ill-equipped to gauge age and didn’t know any better. This isn’t the case anymore.
Also, I can’t remember the last time I was carded. There was a time long ago I would be annoyed with a clerk making me rummage through my purse for my ID. Now? I have my ID locked and loaded, ready for the associate behind the counter to ask for it. They never ask. Even when I present it to them before they have a chance to request it, they refuse the need responding with, “No, that’s ok. I don’t need to see it”. Inside I’m screaming, Yes, You Do!!!
Even grocery shopping has evolved into a different experience. The other day, a stocker offered to help me grab a 24-pack of water off of the bottom shelf. Too proud, I said, ‘No, I got it’. After he left, I immediately regretted my decision wishing he would return.
If this is only the beginning to my 30’s, I’m scared of what’s to come. Every day feels like a guessing game of how my body will decide to turn on me.
Maybe up until this point, I’ve been in denial that I’m getting older. Without warning, I feel like it’s all hitting me at once. I just woke up one morning and this is my new reality. I’m no longer a spring chicken and there’s no hiding it.
Instead of fighting it, I’m just going to have to embrace it. Embrace the respect coming along with being called ma’am and accept never having to reach for my ID. Embrace needing to pamper myself with extra massages and additional trips to the salon to get rid of those pesky sprouting hairs. Embrace being at a stage in my life where I’m happy and content being a wife to an amazing husband and a proud mom to two toddlers. And no, I don’t know what the hell these teens are saying nowadays and I’m not sure if I ever will.