SO something happened to me a few weeks ago which sparked the idea for this post and also kept me awake at night for several days…….
I was entertaining a cute young gentleman at Castro Manor – as I do from time to time – except this guy was just a TAD younger than what I usual go for. Now almost immediately after we began to converse I remembered why I typically go for guys my age or older (Daddy issues) It was like talking to a tickle me Elmo doll that’s been kept in the attic for over a decade and has finally got the chance to spill the beans on his time locked away. BUT he was cute and I was willing to stick it out till the…end.
AND THEN IT HAPPENED.
The guy turns to me and asks how old I am….
OK first off I don’t know about you but I tend to want to know these types of things BEFORE I meet someone for the first time. And I did. I was a little surprised he hadn’t already known my age before coming over. Now when I’m asked about my age I like to be a little bitch and make the person guess. This guy guessed that I was his age (20) and I promptly laughed in his face and corrected him. I’m currently 26.
I might as well have taken out a bloody sickle and raised it over my head to strike by the reaction on this twinks face. He couldn’t believe it. It was as if I transformed into a completely different person in front of his eyes. For the next hour he kept bringing the convo back to my age. So finally I tell this ageist that I have to take my teeth out and go to bed. I practically pushed him out the door.
SO I guess the new 35 is 26. I spent the next week staring in the mirror and wondering where it all went wrong. Am I old? does it really matter that much? It would seem I crossed the thresh hold from turning down guys because of their age, to being the one turned down (technically i was never turned down- just annoyed. Lets be clear I still got it) How tragic.
Now I’m just being dramatic here but in all seriousness it really did have an effect on me. I’ve never really thought about my age or how others would perceive it, and to be real for a sec twenty-six is NOT old. But it did mean I was OLDER. And that’s the part that was freaking me out. I AM OLDER. Suddenly saving money to buy that sweet new game has turned into saving money so i can have food and electricity. Its fucking scary as hell. I have grey hairs growing in more frequently and being at home with a good book and a glass of wine sounds so much better than a night on the dance floor. For awhile now I’ve been feeling I dunno…less cool.
But the more I think about it and the more I talk to others with similar feelings I’m realizing that I’m just growing up. Being “cool” doesn’t matter anymore. Having a job, my own place and being able to support myself. THAT’S what matters. Growing as a person and human being THAT’S cool. I think it’s pretty common these days to have a quarter life crisis. Especially when young, rich, successful celebs are shoved in our faces every day as If it were or should be the norm. I’m here to tell you its NOT.
So in closing. Yes you may no longer be 21 and those bags under your eyes are just gonna keep getting darker BUT you have money, a roof over your head and your doing it all on your own. The next time your at home doing laundry and watching Netflix on a Saturday night, and you start scrolling through Instagram: seeing all the hot young-ins wiggling around on the dance floor. Don’t feel like your missing out. You’ve been there done that. Remember that come Sunday morning everyone in those pics are going to be waking up to a nasty headache and probably a few barfs as well. Plus anyone who’s anyone knows that SUNDAY BRUNCH with friends (who you can actually hear speaking to you) and a mimosa is what’s totally IN right now anyway;)
That’s enough personal BULL. We will continue with our regular programming…for now.
Source: My mind.