Monday, November 30, 2015

Why Turning 34 Basically Sucks

So I just turned 34. Yup. The big three four. The, ‘oh my god I’m very much in my mid 30s now’ is a big bag of uggg. It seems almost like a lie. To wake up one day and damn it, you are thirty freakin four years old. How the hell did that happen? I know most of you reading this are practically ten years younger then me and have a very vague idea of what being this age might even mean. I know some of you reading this think, ‘get over it,’ and that I’m not that old at all. Well to both camps, I get your point but for the moment, being in it, and going through it, it's not pleasant at all.

Being thirty-four is not so bad really. You are no longer a dumbass who cares what people think about you. You are still fit and your body has not been taken over by the ravages of gravity and most illnesses that come with age. You are smarter and more patient and able to see the big picture of things. These are all great. They at times make me feel like a goddamn mastermind of life but then there are the other things.

The other things are produced by the measure of things one has or lacks at this unglamorous age and this is especially potent for women. For me that’s a lot of the big things that most thirty-four year olds should have and that lack basically sucks. These things are like having kids, a long and stable romantic relationship, some form of ownership of property or at least a dope pad, money (lots more money), disposable income, a savings, and a steady and inclining career. All the above I lack so yeah, not doing so great.

I know, I know that I’m being hard on myself. I know that I have done this, that and the other thing and that if someone was to write my biography to date I would have done, seen and experienced way more then most but the lack of the above is like having your judgmental family members give you the ‘poor you’ head nod all the damn time.

Do I, should one, even want those things listed above? Depends on who you are obviously but by this time, this thirty four year old time (and there abouts) is when even if you don’t want them the lack thereof makes you really think, ‘what the hell am I doing with my life.’

Why is this? It’s social construct of course. All the crap clichés of life are these contraptions built to make us behave and conform to one thing or another. But there is some reason for this and biology being  a huge factor.

When you are in your early twenties you are like little emperors and empresses who truly believe you can change the world and have no limits. This usually doesn’t pan out for most so then you enter your mid twenties and you think, ‘job’ or something like that and you go and get one. Then late twenties you are juggling being fabulously young with being fabulously networked. Then you turn the big 3-0 and you think what next? Then you try to sort that out over the next few years. This includes new friends, new jobs, new significant others. The whole marriage and babies questions arises more at this time too, especially for women who seem to many times be physically and mentally hijacked by the ‘baby bug.’ Then around this time you think, ‘settle down’ and most people do. They marry the person next to them. They upgrade their life in home and attire and they get into the rhythm of life. You basically become domesticated and hopefully will be happily so for a few years to forever. Then you turn 40 and someone might have a breakdown and then you turn 50 and someone else might have a break down and then you turn 60 and you chill out and then you turn 70 you are perma-chill and then you are 80 -100 and you are just ‘I don’t give a crap’ chilled out. And then you die.

So, this is the trajectory. We all know it. We all know what is supposed to come even if one lives an uber creative and anti-conformist life. Not keeping to pace and matching, at least to some degree, this path makes you stick out like a Santa Claus decoration still out on the lawn in June. I’m a Santa Claus decoration at the moment. Someone please put me in the basement.

But seriously, I know being 34 is no big thang really. I feel like I can melt people with my eyes in regards to my confidence levels and am super blessed to have the life I have which is for the most part pretty freaking amazing, full of the best people in the world and so privileged. 

I guess I’m just having a bit of a gripe fest and in doing so I realize that it is just that. I may be 34 and grumpy at times but at least I’m not 23 and hey it could be worse. I could be dead.