all worked up…

November 11th, 2009

I’m going to be 40 in less months than I’d like. And I’m dipping my toes into a nice mid-life crisis. My current Facebook status is “what does your mid-life crisis look like?”

I’ve always loved birthdays… your’s, mine, anyone’s. I love the presents and the celebration and the cake and the enjoyment. But I am reasonably sure I hate 40.

Getting older has never bothered me before. My friend, LeeAnn, has always been in charge of age-related issues. But now, this one is really bothering me. 40!

When I was 20… heck, when I was 30, I had such ideas and plans for my life. I had a vision of where I would be at 40. To be perfectly honest, where I am right now isn’t anything like what I thought 40 would be.

Now, lots of things in my life - my marriage, my kids, my friendships - far surpass where I thought I would be at 40. But other things - my work, my writing,  my ability to dream - are nowhere near where my dreams or goals thought I would be. And how do I change that? The economy is lousy & I’m fortunate to have a job at all, much less one with good health insurance.Truth be told, I am very grateful for the life I’ve been given, including the job I work.

But really, at 40, do I want to be just a drone working to pay the mortgage? The mama who feels an obligation to feed and clothe her children says yes.

Do I really want to spend my nights at work or at home working on insurance classes for work instead of writing? The mama who wants her children to have a reasonably secure childhood says yes.

Do I really always want to make my decisions based upon how those decisions will affect three other people? Mama says yes.

But some days, when I don’t drown her out, there’s this Chel voice crying out that she really misses making choices that are for her and her alone. She misses choices that are exciting and full of potential. She misses moments that are exhilarating. She misses flirting and tingly sensations. She misses stringing words together to create something lovely. She misses the idea that life is full of amazing possibility. She misses feeling strong and independent.

She misses… goodness, she misses herself.

For a while now, I’ve thought my mid-life crisis was shaped like this or that fleeting image. As it turns out, it’s mostly shaped like me, a long time ago.

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