on my fiftieth: i decared myself middle age because certainly i will live to be one hundred; no problem, and isn’t fifty the new thirty?. on my fortieth: i was too busy to think about it: enjoying you and your sister and taking you to piano, ski, horseback riding lessons etc., and getting mad at anyone who mistakened me for your grandmother; (were they blind or what)? and although i had some trepidation about turning thirty, it actually turned into one of the best decades of my life, (more about that later). 16 and twenty-one were both anti-climactic.

when people say that the twenties are supposed to be the best years of your life that certainly was not true for me…i experienced them as quite unhappy, turbulent almost like the terrible twos with a zero added for extra punch; fueled by my efforts to live up to everyone elses expectations, and not trusting my own. it seemed that everyone had a better idea about what i should do with my life; and when i didn’t fulfill their benchmarks i felt pretty crummy.

i wasn’t the pretty girl who was the life of the party; i’d rather stay home in my pajama’s with a good book, and you know i have absolutely no rhythmn, i’m tactile defensive and crowds make me nervous. but still in all, i’d put on that little party dress and go to the bars to become part of the “meat market” (the lafayette orleans where all the beautiful people hung out) with my friends and sit there waiting, waiting, waiting to get “chose”, pretty sad huh?, and what is even sadder, is i never got “chose,” but silly me, that never stopped me from trying, and comparing myself to the girls who did get the guys, lol.

i just know that by the time i was 26, and mr.right hadn’t appeared on his magical horse to sweep me away, i was pretty nervous…heck in my mind (which wasn’t actually my mind but belonged to the expectations of all of my friends, and maybe society too) i was supposed to be working on my first baby by then.

too bad for me that i didn’t appreciate the fact that i had my youth, my masters by age 23, my own apartment, my own car, great friends, great clothes, healthy parents, my own health (including no communicable diseases, if you know what i mean), a fabulous job that allowed me to travel all over the county, including hawaii and the carribean, etc. too bad that i didn’t appreciate that all of these experiences were preparing me for my future, and getting me ready to live my “own” life, set by my own standards, and to become authentically who i was to become.

so on my 30th birthday, because i had “failed,” i decided to opt out: i just decided to be who i am, stop waiting on my life to start, to do what i wanted to do, to stop caring about what anyone else thought, and yes to spend saturday night in my own house curled up with a good book, (preferably by toni morrison), with some nice earth, wind, and fire, playing in the background, and maybe eat a little greens and cornbread. (as opposed to sushi)!

and believe it or not that is when the magic happened!

that is when i found my own power: i became at peace with who i am; and the only person’s opinion i really cared about was my own. and curiously enough that’s when i began to have my choice of the guys; but more importantly, i appreciated my independence, my knidness and that i was a good person, my quietness, and that i don’t neccessarily think like everyone else; and suprisingly enough that’s when everything else came…like you and your sister, and true friendhips, and the guys weren’t so bad either. yes-siree, my thirties were great!

so here i am at the big six-0, not feeling at all diffrent then i have ever felt; but it is just that number!!! 6-0 wow!!!

it took me a while to figure it out, but one day when i was out on my morning walk it just came to me: I AM RIPE AND JUICY! and that’s what i’m taking into the next decade is that all of these experiences have made me ripe and juicy!

love you,
mommy