Life Change
Ever since I could remember, I’ve felt younger than everyone around me. It’s an eerie feeling to know in years, I’m the same age as everyone around, but I feel like a kid on the inside. Like, something within my core, never matured. It was like my body grew up, but my heart and mind didn’t. I’m not sure when that line became blurry. I’m pretty sure this life change happens to everyone. That maturity and adult acceptance occurs. For me, it just wouldn’t come. I hated it. Why couldn’t I be the age everyone else was. Why couldn’t I be an adult.
I think, I’m not alone in feeling this way. Perhaps no one else talks about it. Like I had the world by the tail, and I was cool, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be this way any longer. Even years after my children came along, I felt like I wasn’t the age I was physically. Like my brain got stuck on eighteen. I was nearing thirty, when something snapped. Suddenly, I was distructible, breakable. I struggled with this realization for several years, until finally, something unthinkable occurred. I became something very different. I began to worry about what I would fix for supper, what I would say at the parent meetings, the baseball games. I was telling my kids, “because I said so, that’s why.” and other things I had hated hearing growing up. Oh my goodness, I was becoming my mother! What the heck was I gonna do about this dilemma? I grappled with this plight. What a horrible thing to have happen, becoming one of the very individuals that had said and done all the things I had said I wouldn’t! This became a tug of war internally. I began to push against it. It would push back.
One day, after foundering with this inner demon, I realized something: You’re not your mother, because she has become something very different too. As we were aging in our respective bodies, we were both transforming into different individuals. I was not becoming my mother. I was becoming what my mother had been. Was that okay? I don’t know. But acceptance came. Were all my inner wars over? No, but one hurdle that I never thought I could accept, had been defeated. I had become an adult. Might I add, really not a bad one. After all, I turned out okay. I guess if I had to go through this life change, If I had to become anyone, the person whom had such a huge role in my life, wasn’t such a bad selection. I had become an adult. I had succeeded and failed. I had failed at not becoming the adult, my mind had said was evil. I had succeeded in becoming an adult. I had become my mother, and it was okay.
This is three of Folk Lifestyle weekly journal/blog challenge.
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I love it Tammy. There are days I want to be an adult even now. Something inside me, like my dad, won’t let me grow up. That’s o.k. by me!
WHEW….I seriously wonder sometimes if I’m alone! I’m so glad I’m not! Thanks Diane!
Tammy recently posted…Making a Life Change – Week 3
You’re definitely not alone. I just had this thought the other day. I graduate from college in May. I’m starting to really grasp the age old question of “where does the time go?” All I really want to do is grab a kool-aid squeezee and watch Saturday morning cartoons in bed. The good cartoons though… not the junk they show today. I need a time machine.
Hillary recently posted…Successful Failures
Awe, sounds like you’re a woman after my own heart!! Thanks!
You gave me some comfort with the line “I had become my mother, and it was okay.” As the mother of two young adult women I am betting they are seeing glimpses of me in the mirror. I hope they will reach the same conclusion you have!
They will. They may not have, or may never admit it to you….but it’s all good in the end!
Hi Tammy. I’ve found you thru Folk Mag. I love your argument about becoming like your mother. Each time I catch myself speaking like, or having mannerisms like my mother I just freeze up inside because my mother is so abusive…even at 78 million yrs of age she still is someone who I dread to emulate. It’s so wonderful you’ve found peace in the process and I applaud you greatly.
Veronica Roth recently posted…Some days I do as many as twelve impossible things. Before breakfast.
Thanks! I think all Mother’s have a touch of this. They are just “moms”