Mommy Musings Monday- Why turning 30 is absolutely exhilarating
If you think my dental formula is crooked, you clearly did not know me in my teenage hood. My teeth were an eyesore then.
As a result of resisting having my milk teeth pulled out and sucking my thumb until the age of 7, I ended up having crowded teeth. That did not bother me while in elementary school. Being someone who gets humored easily, I would laugh hard and flash my smile all the time, displaying my crooked teeth, all 36 of them! Maybe I should have just pursued arts, focusing on theater. I bet my teeth would have granted me an unfair advantage over other applicants for a role in Vampire Diaries. My mum tried convincing me to get them sorted out but I played hard ball. I had no qualms about having canines that stuck out like sore thumbs. Mom told me that one day I would frantically look for a dentist’s contacts and pay them a visit without anybody’s intervention. As sure as God made apples, that day came when I turned sixteen!
My dad taught me to ride a bike when I was 7 years old, something I want R to adopt for our daughters. He considered riding bicycles such a crucial and sacrosanct part of his kids’ development. So he ensured that all four of us learned the art without fail. It was of course not a smooth process and I still carry some of the scars on my legs and knees. Once I got the hang of it, I found so much pleasure in bicycle riding and at some point I wanted to do it on a professional level, and hopefully participate in Tour de France. Sadly, that never happened. What happened though is that I rode my bike so hard in my childhood, leaving me with masculine legs. Legs I thought I would never expose, at least not in this lifetime.
There’s a point to all these disclosures. Last Saturday, we celebrated a friend’s birthday. It was quite an exquisite party set in the 90’s at a friend’s lush backyard. She was caught by surprise, my eagle-eyed friend who is always too “chonjo” to be caught off-guard. With her glass of chardonnay in one hand, she moved from table to table expressing her gratitude to everyone present. Evidently, she was excited to have turned 30 and appreciative to have celebrated the day with her close friends. What she did not know is that her life had just begun. When she came over to me, I stood up and grabbed my whisky.
“Let’s go chat over there.” I said to her, pointing at the patio. I sprung myself on the hammock and she stood across me, with her back towards me, looking at the small gathering, completely overwhelmed.
“That’s the first thing that happens when you turn 30. You will appreciate your TRUE friends more and drop all the ones that don’t add value to your life, without flinching.” I said to her.
“Oh yeah? Surprisingly though, I have never felt compelled to put up with people hiding behind friendly facades.” She retorted.
“Ok. How about this. You will lose any remaining insecurities you may have. Also, you will wonder how you got to 30 bearing all that.” So I went ahead to tell her how liberating being 31 was for me.
It took bearing a child at the age of 27 to let go of some of my insecurities. And turning 30 to lose the remainder! The moment my clock turned 30, I felt this sudden gush of relief come over me and off it went with all my cares.
My eyes were immediately opened to the fact that some friendships were either one sided, or I was struggling to find common goals and interests. I suddenly had no place in my phonebook for such contacts.
My wardrobe changed. Out went most of my pants and jeans and in came mini and midi dresses, skirts and shorts. I thought to myself that if anyone had a problem with my chisel shaped legs and the marks they came with, they could go fry ice. I felt good when I wore my knee length pieces, and that’s all that mattered. I laughed hard and smiled more, and while at it, captured those moments for posterity.
I no longer accept invites to events and parties that are not my cup of tea just to please others. My happiness comes first, of course together with that of my family. So if something makes me happy and does not offend my family, I go for it. My daughters are my world, and they dictate how my Friday evenings pan out. From doing homework to going on movie/dinner dates or a drive, they are my bosses on Fridays. They come first always, but more so on Fridays.
The need for company to have some fun? Certainly, that does not apply to me. I will drive to the Abor on a Saturday afternoon and sit on the endearingly huge swing, with my favorite book in one hand and a sangria in the other! Their sangrias are divine.
And if I have to enjoy my drink with someone, save for date night with R and the once in a while drink ups with my girls, they have to be extremely witty and smart. Because I am intrigued by intellectual conversations, especially those that come with a touch of humor. I do not shoot the breeze, unless I am trying to win over a client. There’s so much happening in the world to have time for meaningless conversations.
I speak my mind, unapologetically so. I do what makes me happy, regardless of the awkward stares and silent murmurs. That is what being 31 is to me, and I can only hope that my friend finds as much joy and peace in her 30’s as I have found in mine!