Some things never change. Via SarahMC
As of Sunday, I will no longer be in my “mid-twenties.” At 27, I’ll be living in my “late-twenties” stage, nearing closer to that arbitrary age at which women are supposed to be embarassed to admit when they were born.
I approach my own birthday with some consternation. I abhor and reject the popular notion that women have a sell-by date, after which they become invisible and unimportant. But I know I will be held to the same sexist standard and I don’t like it. I have heard women say they enjoy the freedom that comes with invisibility. There’s a definite appeal to that. Then why does it trouble me to be subject to fewer cat-calls and come-ons than I was as a younger woman? It’s strange, as a woman, to watch your “prime” – as defined by patriarchy – slip away. That this thought occupies space in my head sickens me. Oh big P, you’re such a mind-fuck.
But our sexist society does not generate all my birthday anxiety. Birthdays are fraught with self-examination and reevaluation; they force you to look at what you’ve accomplished in the past and what awaits down the road. This one is really no different from the last, but they are all sort of flashing, blinking reminders that my time is limited! and I’d better make something of myself! And the older I get the more it seems no time at all has passed between them. I remember the single-digit birthdays, playing games in the backyard and getting nervous about sleepovers. And how my college friends always threw “secret” little parties for each other’s birthdays in the dorms. Birthdays are less remarkable these days (though the pressure to celebrate awesomely is second only to that on New Years Eve).
Additionally, if I am a year older it means my parents are a year older and I am that much closer to losing them. I value the relationship that’s developed between my parents and me as I’ve grown into adulthood, and I just plain love them both as people. Their mortality, in addition to my own, scares me. I don’t know if I want children but I always thought that if I did have kids I’d begin at 30, give or take a year. My dysfunctional body presents an obstacle to pregnancy, however. Since the chance that my tumor will disappear is exactly zero, I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to have (biological) children anyway.
Birthdays are not supposed to be melancholic! I am excited about eating ice cream cake, and trying out the Diva Cup BeckySharper sent me! Does anyone else get broody on their birthday?
Oh, I feel you on this. I’ll be 28 exactly two months from today, and damned if I’m not already rounding up to 30. And it shouldn’t matter, but then I think about what my parents were doing at my age (Dad was a professor, Mom was a mom), what my younger sister has already accomplished that I haven’t (graduated from college), etc., and it’s maddening. I don’t necessarily hate birthdays, but they tend to inspire more introspection than is good for me.
And you’ll hear me say it many more times, but happy birthday.
Yes. Birthdays recently remind me that the patriarchy wants me to know that my biological clock is ticking and I better get on that whole finding a man thing because golly gee I’m getting SO OLD and I’ll never be happy without a Man!
Blech.
I’m 27. It’s absurd. And anyway, my plan for years has been to just wait until my mid-30s and go the sperm donor or adoption route, so I particularly resent that I still wind up feeling bad about myself periodically for Being Single (or at least not in a serious relationship) and Not Fitting The Mold because doing those things was never something that I personally 100% expected for myself, even as a kid, so they’re totally someone else’s expectations that I’ve internalized to torture myself.
The only thing I get broody over is just what you said about your parents. The thought of my mommy dying reduces me to shrieky 2 year old terror. She had me relatively young–27–and our family is extremely long-lived (the women mostly mkae it to 90), so the chances are she’ll be around for decades to come, but still….
Otherwise, I am happy for each birthday I get. I do not want to die young. I have family members who probably will, and so it seems wrong to gripe about my birthdays when they may not have many left.
And about the parent thing, my dad has been ill for a few years so the notion of advancing time meaning less time with my parents has actually not bothered me since his diagnosis; I’ve made my peace with that and just been thankful that I have good relationships with my family. I actually worry much more about my dog Jack getting older, which I’m sure is a bit of sublimated anxiety over my father.
I’m so neurotic about birthdays. I try to have perspective and be kind to myself, but I can’t help measuring my life (unfavorably, natch) against the expectations/ambitions I had when I was younger.
I’m the oldest Harpy (by a matter of weeks), and although I usually really like birthdays, I was broody–to say the least–this year. Like, “no, Dude, I don’t want a party, please don’t make me be around people” broody. Like Spark, it mostly has to do with unmet expectations and derailed plans. I don’t want another bday like that.
Funny about the catcalls, Sarah. My husband noticed at about age 35 that he stopped getting pick up lines from other men, and he knew he was past his physically attractive prime then.
My point being – even men define their attractiveness by their responses from men.
Birthdays are always sort of a mixed bag for me. I think that when I reached the age at which I started to be really conscious of them I was wrapped up in major depression and an eating disorder. For a long time I held the silent opinion that I wouldn’t make it to my twenties.
Clearly, I have. It is kind of weird to simultaneously look back on that attitude as being realistic at the time, and to think that now I have my whole life ahead of me, but to still feel the weight of expectations of what to do with that life. If that makes any sense at all.
God when I was a kid I was always reduced to panic attacks and crying jags on my birthday. My fear of mortality and the passage of time was much more intense when I was a child, strange as it sounds. My first memory of a panic attack was on my 10th birthday; the concept of double digits sent me into an absolute tailspin of existential terror. Your future self will probably look back at your 27 year anxiety with as much humor and kindness as I look at my 10 year old fear. As I get older I get calmer and I haven’t had a panic attack in a long long time, and I don’t mind my birthdays any more, probably because I have had to face a lot of the things I was so afraid of — illness, death, the closing of doors that were once open. And none of them are as terrible as my fears of them were (as SOALG alludes to with her dad’s situation). And I would never, ever want to go back in time, not for a second (except for the occasional fantasy of going back with the intelligence and presence of mind I have now and fixing all the mistakes I made…but that’s different).
However Sarah 27 is a momentous birthday from an astrological perspective. It’s the beginning of your Saturn Return (google that shit!) and the next three years will no doubt be very momentous for you, filled with beginnings and endings and the coming together of things that seem scattered now. I predict that by the time you hit 30, your sense of self and purpose will incredibly strong. Just remember you’re as young as you will ever be and enjoy your life. The strongest feeling I get looking back in time is that I should have been bolder, less worried, had fewer rules for myself, fewer anxieties, more sex and more fun.
As for your sell by date, you can put off worrying about that one for a while. I’m 2 and a half years older than you and can tell you I haven’t reached invisibility yet. I figure I’ve got another decade until I have to deal with that particular loss/gain, and I’m not mourning my youth one more day than I have to.
I feel ya, hon. Although, you know, it’s strange, I’m rapidly nearing the end, full-stop, of my 20s, and while things were moving forward for me fairly rapidly from 26-27, they’re in a bit of a tailspin now. I figure it’ll make for a fun chapter in my biography.
Which is to say, what I keep reminding myself of lately is that life is a process, not a goal. I’m trying to go back to my mid-20s dabblings in Buddhism and remember that the reason we suffer (or brood as you put it) is to spend too much time dwelling on what you want as opposed to what you have, right now, in the moment, in front of you. Which, in your case, by my count, is a wonderful boyfriend, a fabulous dog, good parents, a new apartment, a job that works for you, classes that challenge you intellectually, a sharp and brilliant mind and legions of adoring internet fans. Not too shabby, huh?
s.o.a.l.g.!!!! your 28th birthday is July 8th?!?!?!?!? My 28th birthday is July 9th!! I knew we were the same age but I didn’t know it was that close!!!!
Back on point, I had a few freak out birthdays: 18, 25, the impending 28. But I try not to, I’m determined not to ever lie about my age or be ashamed of it. Of course I freak out because my parents were parents younger than I am now, and because my little bro has gone to college and has an amazing job in the UK and I’m here feeling inadequate at my dumb job. But then I take a stp back and say hey, I have a job, I have AMAZING friends, and I will probably get to have another birthday.
I guess I’m trying to say that I’ve made peace with it, or at least I’m trying. It’s all good as long as I can spend it with friends and family.
You know what’s funny? I’ve accomplished a lot of the checklist-type things society says I should have and I STILL dread my birthdays. At 27, I’ve never done anything remarkable or noteworthy. I have no career. I still struggle with things I feel like I should be over by now, like hating my thighs and comparing myself to everyone who’s thinner/prettier – and now add younger.
I feel very the-grass-is-always-greener about my life these days. I wonder if that ever goes away.
@SarahMC: I wholeheartedly co-sign on what PSoul said, which was spot on and very wise.
After all, ladies, we’re likely to live past 80, so we’ve lived only a very small percentage of our lives thus far. We have many, many years on this journey and we can do wonderful things during those years before we retire to the Old Harpy Home.
Blondegrlz – nope it never goes away. I don’t compare to the thinner/prettier I compare to the smarter/more accomplished people.
But nope, it never goes away.
duuuude, the grass is ALWAYS motherfucking greener. ALWAYS. this is my explanation for my otherwise inexplicable enjoyment of reality tv and, though it’s been on the wane for some time, celebrity gossip. i just need to remind myself that people with “better” lives (richer, famouser, prettier, etc) are actually worse off than me usually.
Umm, Blondegrlz, I know it’s annoying when people do this, but I’ve seen pictures. You’re gorgeous. As is SarahMC, btw. And basically everyone I’ve ever met in internet feminist communities.
Also, this quote from Michelle Obama keeps sticking in my head because she said it apropos of my current dilemma (i.e. leaving the corporate world for something else). At her father’s funeral, she wondered: “If I died in four months, is this how I would have wanted to spend this time?” This is why I think the here and now is important.
Blondegrlz, that is what I struggle with. I know intellectually that I am lucky to have a job, two loving parents, a great boyf, a beagle dog, etc. But the cloud of envy follows me everywhere. Right now what depresses me most is that I am not a homeowner. It kills me when people my age buy real estate. I have serious issues w/ comparing myself to other people and measuring my life by that yardstick.
To me, 27 feels so old – like I am so far behind where I “should” be by now and like being left alone to die in a nursing home is right around the corner.
AuntieEm, I’m determined not to ever lie about my age or be ashamed of it either. I’ll just silently weep about it!
To contribute some positivity–as much as I can be an wreck about the aging/birthday thing, I recognize I’m way more grounded than I was even a few years ago. I wouldn’t trade my sense of self at 26 for my sense of self at 18 or 21 or even 24. So I do take solace in that even as I mourn my impending decrepitude.
Dear lord, Sarah, homeowner by 27? What handbook are you consulting??? I’m in serious trouble if that is the case. If you are ever yardsticking on that particular topic you can just check out my life, in which I seriously doubt property ownership will ever figure; I recently let slip my rent to my in laws and they were shocked for hours. Furthermore I still spend more on weed than I do on utilities every month and I’m almost thirty. So really, you could be much much less responsible and together! it all depends on whose lawn you are looking at.
One of my friends bought a rowhouse in Baltimore at 24. Another bought a house in PA at 24. The boyf and my good friends (a couple) bought a house in DC last year and now another couple we’re friends with bought a house in DC. It drives us to drink.
For some reason, birthdays have always been exciting for me. They are an excuse to invite lots of people over for tacos, margaritas and board games. Up until recently, the only issue that tortured me daily and lead me to compare myself to other women mercilessly is my weight and body image. That was until I was laid-off last month.
I’ve been blindsided by the feelings of inadequacy this has dredged up. At 28 I still haven’t found a job that suits me. I see so many friends who’ve been at the same job for years now, and have actual 401k plans and SAVINGS ACCOUNTS! Oh, I can’t even imagine what that’s like. I am a social studies teacher who recently discovered she hates teaching – in public schools anyway. My dream job would be to manage a tutoring program at a non-profit or something, but that’s proving pretty hard to find these days.
Anyway, all of this is just a way of saying I think a whole lot of us are in the same boat here. I think the 20s stage of life has drastically changed in America since our parents were our age, but I really don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. We should embrace discovering that it’s really about the journey. It would be boring, I think, to just be set with a spouse, kids and house with a white picket fence by age 22. I am trying (not always successfully) to just let my life be what it is and not compare it to anyone else. Chances are that those who seem like they have it all together certainly DO NOT behind closed doors.
I dunno. Almost every day I spend a small amount of time and energy being depressed about my lack of accomplishment, scared about mortality/the future, and generally angst-ridden about the inevitable march of time… but NOT on any of my birthdays, which are days when I can set worries aside and manage to have some damn fun. I’m 29, and my birthday “parties” are basically inviting my friends to come drink with me at my favourite bar. Good times. Then the next day, I can get back to worrying about the past and future. Maybe I’m weird that way, but it works for me.
Those people have GOT to be getting financial help from their families. By 24 most people have not been making a living long enough to afford a 20% down payment on bullshit. Esp not in this market. Baltimore is probs easier. But you two paying two rents has got to take a beating on the finances.
I think Historic Upstart has a point about the twenties meaning something so different than they did when our parents were our age. Sometimes I feel stupid for marrying and choosing a career so young (in my twenties), and other times I feel like I am desperately behind and am signed up for a lifetime of infertility, renting, and living paycheck to paycheck. It’s funny how the more choices we have, the less we know if we are doing alright. There’s just no one to ask but ourselves.
Aka FREEDOM ISN’T FREE. Sorry, that will always be funny to me.
Freedom costs a buck oh five, JD. PAY UP!
“But you two paying two rents has got to take a beating on the finances.”
Don’t get me started.
Without my Effexor, I would naturally be angst-y all the time, so birthdays have never been any more or less stressful than any other day for me.
Re: the home ownership thing, I am starting to realize just how much other people value that. I’m actually happy being 29 and nowhere near owning a home. Hell, my fiancé and I don’t WANT the responsibility of home ownership. We revel in the fact that we can call the apartment office when the toilet breaks or whatever. Laziness FTW.
It occurred to me the other day that you guys should move into our house when we leave. It’s like smack in between where y’all live. Email me if interested. Sorry for the off topics.
@jdregent: Yes, LOTS of people get financial help from their parents when it comes to home ownership. I don’t have that option, and that fact has probably gone a long way toward helping me ignore the social pressure to buy buy buy! (That combined with the fact that all my friends who bought property in their early 20s are now stuck in townhomes they don’t want and can’t sell, mwa ha ha…)
Birthdays? I don’t think about them – as all my friends and relatives who never get cards can testify!
It’s a shame that society constantly upholds the bogus idea that one’s age is of more relevance than any other single factor of a person’s makeup. I bite my tongue every time I start saying anything like “I’m an old bird,” unless I’m using it to my advantage, rather than bemoaning the fact.
I’m over 40 and life just keeps getting better. I kid you not. Pardon the pun.
Ooo, girl, I feel you! And my birthday is Sunday too! And it’s on Mother’s Day, so it’s like I have triple power! However, I’m turning 41, which means I’m not even “just 40″ anymore. AND, I let my natural hair color grow out this year, so I’m now a full time silver fox. Not to downplay your aging-related anxiety, but try walking around with that beacon of, “Hey, y’all, I’m old!” on your head, while actually being over 40. I used to be able to tell myself, well, at least I look younger than I am. No more!
I occasionally cut a glance out of the corner of my eye at all the issues this birthday brings up for me. I too am grossed out by how fully mind-fucked I am by big P. Fortunately, I’ve got 2 small children and a full time job, so that’s all the time I have for introspection.
Thing is, though it’s seriously turned up to 11 these days, every birthday since my 24th has been like this. I’m sure in another 20 years I’ll be looking back thinking, Oh, lady, you really had no idea…
Wooo! Happy birthday, krismcn! I am actually smiling now. You and I and Bono and Fred Astaire.
krismcn:: I must give you one big huge hi-5 for letting your hair go silver! I will die clutching my hair dye.
I am only 21, but I already struggle with this a little bit, but more because I feel like I need to make some decisions about what to do with my life and I am frightened of making the wrong one.
I think those feelings are normal. I try to tell myself that my life is MINE, and I don’t have to live it the way anyone else thinks is best. But then there’s the family, a big section of which are religious, middle-class American, white, traditionalists who can’t imagine that you might not aspire to have a suburban house with a picket fence and 2.3 kids by age 32, much less be the agnostic socialist that I am. My mother is ALREADY talking about her grandchildren.
I try to tune all that out and go my own way, but it is not always easy.
Oh, but also: when I was living in Germany, that pressure-to-achieve-by-a-certain age thing was waaay less. Most of my friends there are in their mid-twenties (25 or 26) and are still studying, and probably will be for a while.
But a lot of people don’t finish university until they’re about 30 there. I’m at a British uni and my German friends all think it’s amazing that I’ll have a BA at age 21…
Thanks, rodriquez! I’m not saying I’ll stick with it forever, but for now. I started turning in high school, so I’d been coloring for FOREVER, but that shit’s expensive! I’m kinda bummed it’s such a signifier, because I really like the color as an aesthetic choice. Part of me likes being all, “This is what 41 looks like, mofos! Deal with it!”, but like Sarah said, moving into a new (low-value) bracket can test a harpy’s fortitude.
@SarahMC: I know so many people who have bought homes in your area over the last few years who now have mortgages worth more than their homes or who have adjustable interest rates that they can only barely afford to pay. Being a renter is not a bad thing in this market.
Happy birthday!!!
27? Really? Call me when you hit 30….
But seriously, I’m turning 34 in a week, and on paper, I should be trippin. My career has stalled, I work a crap retail job, haven’t had a man in years, no house cause I live with parents, who are both retired and getting older and all that and I help out with my dads care…. But I’m mad content. I refuse to trip on any of Society’s billshit measuring stick crap. I know all the things I want will come, and many of the things I used to think I wanted, I don’t want anymore.
I asked my mom the other day if she was disappointed that I was single and childless. She threw me that look that said, “child please!” and told me she just wanted me to be happy: not according to cosmo, but according to ME. And ultimately, Isn’t that what’s important?
I don’t know if this will make this better or worse for you, but about four months into 27, you’ll be 10,000 days old. I’ve thus far managed to avoid focusing on the negative aspects of getting older by thinking how cool it will be to say “I’ve lived 10,000 days.” Past this I may be screwed.
(Also I’m searching for someone who was born on May 25, 1983 because they will be 10,000 days old on 10/10/10. I just want them to know. I’ve obviously thought about this way too much.)
Happy Birthday SarahMC! I sometimes get broody on my birthday, it depends on whats going on in my life around that day. But allow some advice from an old lady of 31, just fucking enjoy life period. Age aint nothing but a number.
1) Happy Birthday!!
2) I don’t really get all introspecty about birthdays, but OMG! taking off in airplanes makes me re-examine my life! In a sort of, if I died right now, what would I regret? If I am lucky enough to live, what am I going to do about those things? way.
[...] passing is a call to focus on the shortcomings of your life as well as your mortality. SarahMC wrote eloquently about the phenomenon of melancholy colliding with birthdays, and I wonder if it is always more [...]