It began with small things. A desire to go to bed earlier. Followed by the inevitable predawn wake up. Then, I lost interest in certain events and social gatherings. Bars and clubs were just too loud, and I'd find myself checking my watch at parties, wondering when I could sneak out. As it progressed, I became annoyed with the younger generations. I'd watch them in public and think to myself "Was I ever that obnoxious?" At some point, I caught myself Google-ing the latest slang, and realized that I'd lost all touch with current trends and was completely fine with it.
Each year, I'd find myself giving up something new, because I felt I was "too old" for it. Shorts, tight dresses, midriff baring swimsuits, the ability to text with one hand. And all these things seemed unnecessary to me. They were the trappings of the young. I didn't miss them at all.
But recently, I've noticed more and more signs that I'm turning into an old lady. Here are a few:
I got a cat. Now, I realize that young people can also get cats, but I didn't just bring a cat home, I GOT A CAT. Within hours of having her, I started making my own cat toys, built beds for her, and gave her cutesy little baby nicknames that I can only say in a high pitched voice. I've taken WAY too many photos of her, and am convinced that she isn't just any cat, she is the prettiest cat ever born. Oh yeah, and did I mention that I talk to her? Yup. I tell her about my day, bounce blog ideas off of her (she thought this one wasn't my best work for the record) and demand she help me with projects around the house. I've also come to the conclusion that she is lonely, and can only be truly happy if we bring home more furry friends for her to play with. So I didn't just get a cat, I got the crazy cat lady starter kit.
I can have real plants now. For years, I couldn't keep a plant alive longer than a month. I did everything you were supposed to do, and they'd still croak. I tried every kind. I even killed a cactus. So I gave up and accepted that silk flowers and greens were to be all I would ever have. Then, a couple years ago, I was given a couple houseplants as gifts, and lo and behold.... they are still alive. And thriving no less! I'm now officially the proud owner of five, yes I said FIVE lovely, living houseplants. And yesterday, I planted my first indoor herb garden, and I seriously cannot wait to have some fresh herbs to cook with. Which leads me to point number three...
I CAN actually cook. I'll be completely honest here, I'm still no gourmet chef, but I've grown well beyond my previous limitations of cereal and mac and cheese. Though those are still some of my favorite meals. I've learned not only how to properly follow a recipe, but also how to adapt it to fit my tastes. I've become much more comfortable in the kitchen, and have even created several of my own recipes that are quite delicious.
I collect strange things. It's a well known fact that old ladies have odd collections. From assorted lace doilies to ceramic doll heads, old ladies have a tendency to hoard weird stuff. Turns out, I'm no exception. My growing collection of garden gnomes speaks for itself. I've also found the older I get, the harder time I have of throwing stuff away. I'm convinced I can repurpose just about anything into something useful. I do blame Pinterest for some of that though.
I'm bringing brooches back. Now, I've always loved a nice brooch. Even in my younger days. But the older I get, the more I feel like no outfit is complete without that little pop of fun. I search thrift stores for the most unique ones, and even make many of my own. I've also discovered a fondness for scarves, and not just for fashion, but often because I'm always cold.
I no longer want long hair. Growing up, I always had long hair. But the older I got, the shorter and shorter I've gone. For awhile, I would attempt to grow it back out from time to time, missing the days of swinging ponytails and windblown locks. Then I stopped missing it. I prefer the ease of short styles, and I save a fortune on hair products. Now, if it gets long enough to put into a ponytail, I feel miserable and count down until my next cut.
I say "When I was your age" more often. I've caught myself doing this more and more, and I've realized that I've reached a point in life where I have seen quite a bit of change. From music and television, to technology and more. The generation gap has widened, and I'm no longer the "cool" twenty something I once was, nor do I want to be.
I enjoy being at home. It's hard to believe there was a time when I couldn't wait to rush out the door. I'd come home from work, change my clothes, and head right back out. A night in felt like torture. Now, I look forward to relaxing in the comfort of my own home. Sometimes there's nothing better than a pants free day spent reading or watching movies with my hubs. I still enjoy going out, but I also appreciate coming home and not feeling like it's just a pit stop.
I notice the little things more. When you're young, everything feels so much bigger and more important than it really is. You spend so much time thinking about things, you turn molehills into mountains. Youth has so much drama attached to it. The older you get, the more you learn to recognize what truly matters. You make peace with things you can't change, and you put your energy into things that make a difference. With age comes wisdom, and an understanding that life is more than just the things we can see and touch. The older you get, the more you've probably had to say goodbye to people you loved, which teaches you the true value of a moment. You seek out less quantity and more quality in those you surround yourself with.
Of course I could go on. From grey hairs and crows feet, to stiff joints and the urge to yell "Get off my lawn!" I'm steadily creeping away from spry youthfulness and working my way towards middle age, and inevitably... ripe old age. But you know what? I really don't mind.
