Growing Up, My Own Way
I fondly remember the days of yore (or my very early 20s if you will) when my girlfriends and I would show up to our mandatory Sunday brunches wearing the previous night’s makeup, hair on top of our head and inevitably a smile on our face. That smile was not only plastered on due to excitement over bottomless mimosas, but present for a much greater reason; to discuss Saturday night’s escapades. These anecdotes of just hours before always included a rundown of who was seen kissing who, who drank too much and had to be escorted out by their equally as inebriated friends, and most importantly where and with whom did we all stay that night. Sound a bit like an episode of Sex and The City? Well it was, except this was the South so in lieu of Carrie’s $25 eggs benedict I was noshing on $5 huevos rancheros and was I wearing a Chanel blouse? Not even close, more like a t-shirt “borrowed ” from my hospitable midnight host, or a ‘party favor’ as I liked to call it. After we would gorge ourselves and get day drunk on cheap champagne I would always think, man my 20s rock!
Fast forward five years later and these aforementioned lady dates dissipated, turning into occasional dinners complete with a good steak and a decadent (or so we thought) bottle of wine. The conversations had slowly drifted from that of bad kissers to bad bosses, fear of not having rent money to fear of buying that first house, and the nerve wracking “Will he call?” to “Will he propose?” It’s safe to say that out of everyone I was fairly behind the times when it came to these big girl decisions. All of these major life questions caused my friends a great deal of distress, however since I was not in a serious relationship, was perfectly comfortable in my one bedroom apartment, and still got butterflies when asked for my number by a cute stranger at the bar, I always wondered why I wasn’t more concerned with escrow, closing costs, cut and clarity. Was I really bad at being in my 20s?
Present day has rolled around and as 30 approaches those dinners have turned into emails and phone calls due to work schedules, out of state moves and now the introduction of babies! The houses have long been purchased (of course not by me, I rent mine) the engagement rings are now an addition to the wedding rings (I have neither, but I do have a nice gentleman that cohabits said rented house that can give me one if he so chooses) and the money previously spent on expensive wine is now spent on strollers and daycare (I still buy the wine, lots of it). I still cannot suggest a good realtor or paint color for an entryway and I’m pretty sure yard work will never be fun for me, but I can tell you where the best dog park is in a 50 mile radius or where to eat if you ever find yourself in San Francisco or New York City. These are not special or even unique qualities, since many people possess them, but they are mine. It has taken me nearly a decade to realize that I wasn’t doing my 20s a disservice; I was just doing them my own way. I love to travel, I love to laugh, and I love to upload pictures of my dog on Facebook just like any proud mama would. Will the corner lot, SUV, preschool, and husband come my way? Only time will tell. As for right now, I’m enjoying what I do have and being equally as excited for those who have what I don’t. Have I “grown up” as much as my peers during this time? Some would say yes, some would say no, but I just say it’s not a race and if it took me 10 years to be comfortable with that then I wasn’t as bad at my 20s as I thought.
Image from http://engineeringthegap.blogspot.com/2012/05/growing-up.html