Who am I and what do I want? Two questions I’ve been pondering lately (as a kind of precursor to that ever looming mid-life crisis...?). Anyway, the ideas I had when I was 19 are not at all the ideas I have now and I like to think that it’s because I am maturing, but I doubt it. I think it’s simply due to the fact that the more places I live and the more people I meet, the more I realize what I don’t want to be.
In two years I turn 30. THIR-TY. And I’m already freaking out. I don’t think it’s because I’m afraid of aging (although further reflection on that subject might prove me wrong). I think it’s more of a realization that my life does not fit the model of stability I consider the age of 30 to demand. I don’t have a permanent job position, I don’t know how long I want to live in my current geographical location, and I am not in a committed relationship. I am essentially living one year at a time, which does little to create the stability that I desire and avoid simultaneously. I mean, if I really wanted to be ”stable”, I would resign myself to pursuing a teaching degree so that I could stay on at the school and job that I (currently) love. I would also settle into a more ”permanent” living situation (in other words, get rid of all the second-hand furniture I bought almost two years ago when I first moved here and invest in stuff I actually like). But every time I think about doing this, something in me vetoes the idea. As much as the uncertainty about the future irks me, the idea of settling down and living a ”normal” life is about as appealing to me as becoming a vegetarian. Just not something I want to do.
So who am I and what do I want? The picture keeps changing, but here’s what I’ve understood so far:
I am a big picture, give-me-the-headlines kind of girl. Details stress me out. I like simple and uncomplicated. I don’t follow trends, I don’t like clutter and I hate reading user manuals. I don’t want to own a bunch of stuff, because the more stuff you own, the more money you have to dish out on insuring the stuff you own, and I’d rather travel. The gadgets that my friends are going crazy for right now (think Apple) may make life easier on some level, but they absorb your time and mental energy in a really unsettling way and I don’t want to lose my appreciation for things like face to face communication, pen and paper, and that every elusive attention span. I can understand it’s fun to have toys, but the way I see it, those things just trick you into staying mentally in the same place.
I like throwing things away. I scour my closet a few times a month hoping to find something I can get rid of (a habit I cultivated in my late teens, much to my parents’ despair. They couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to keep my old dance trophies...). But it’s proved very useful when moving. Less stuff to pack. I want to stay mobile. I think I’d be happy with renting an apartment for the rest of my life. The beauty of renting is that it allows for the freedom to up and leave whenever you want. And that, my friends, is what I call quality of life. As the famous French essayist, Michel de Montaigne, once wrote, ”One should always have one’s boots on and be ready to leave.” Amen I say.*
(* I should add a sidebar here and say that I do dream about living in a spacious villa by a lake, somewhere in Italy. This would be one of very few allowable exceptions to my rule of hassle-free, scaled-down living. The house would of course be accompanied by a red Mini Cooper and a Vespa.)
I realize that on some level I’ve ruined it for myself by moving around. By not staying in the same place for more than three years, I don’t allow myself to cultivate friendships that last a lifetime. I’ve grown used to being the new girl and always feeling out of the loop. No matter how comfortable I am with the locals and the language, there will always be cultural things that I don’t get, jokes I don’t consider funny, and history between friends that I will never be able to compete with. I will also never fully be able to express what I want to say in the exact way I want to say it in any language other than English. Since I left the States five years ago, I feel like I’ve lost nuances to my personality. I used to be the girl who dished out sarcastic comments all the time and made my friends and co-workers laugh. Now I have to work really hard at being funny, and most of the time I end up being lame instead (I have had occasional moments of brilliance, but very few and far between). It’s extremely frustrating and at times disheartening, but it is one of the unfortunate side-effects to the life I’ve chosen. I just have to resign myself to the fact that I will never be intellectually stunning or have sharp presence of mind. I’ve become terribly two-dimensional, but I do have a lot of heart, which I hope makes up for the lack of all that other ”color.”
One thing I have been thinking a lot about is the thought of having children. Although I’m open to changing my mind, right now I really can’t reconcile myself to the idea. Nothing about being pregnant, giving birth and taking care of an infant appeals to me. Whenever my friends who have kids describe the experience, they get all ”aw” and I get all ”ew”. I literally squirm in my seat. But I am a realist, so I do understand that if and when I do get married, I will most likely want to have a family with the lucky guy. But then I prefer to adopt. As I am not a sentimental person, I don’t feel the need or desire to produce my own offspring, but I am a practical person and since there are so many children who don’t have parents who want them, why not be a little efficient with our resources? It’s a shame the process is so freaking expensive and drawn out. Maybe I should put myself on a waiting list now so that when I really am ready, like 10 years down the road, everything will be set.
When I was 19, I dreamt of a dashing career in TV journalism. When I was 20, I realized that wasn’t what I wanted at all. I’ve had time to change my mind several times over since then and just this week I think I’ve finally defined what my life project is going to be. But I don’t want to voice the idea here until I’ve made the first move. The thing is, I want a job that allows me to travel, one that challenges my mind and emotions and makes use of my life experience. Teaching has thus far done that, but like with everything else, I don’t want to do it for long lest I get bored, grow frustrated and/or lose focus. I am a passionate person, but I have yet to find something that I am truly passionate about, something that would compel me to commit long-term. But like I said, I think I’ve got something in the works...
If you’re familiar with the story of Mary and Martha in the Bible, you’ll know that I’ve always been more the Martha type. I am a woman of action. I hate talking too much about something, because the more we talk, the more we over-analyze and complicate matters. But I do recognize that I need to improve in the area of small talk. I think I unintentionally come off as brusque and impersonal at times, simply because I lack the social graces of beating around the bush. I’d rather skip that awkward dance and get straight to the point: I don’t care about how you’re feeling right now, and no, I do not want to see pictures of your cat or hear about how cute your baby was this morning while eating his oatmeal. I just want an answer to my question. Does that sound cold to you? The truth is, I really do want to invest more time in people, actually be mentally present, and not be in such a hurry that I don’t have time to stop and chat with a friend I meet on my way to that meeting. I want to be more relaxed and live in the here and now. I’ve been so good at living in the future that I’ve forgotten to cherish the present. This is definitely an area I need to grow in, but I do think I’m getting better at it.
So. In two years I turn 30. I guess I still have some time to get my act together. I say bring it on.
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