Yeah, I used to be a real wild child, but now I am a Volvo driving soccer mom
I'm having a 1/3 life crisis. Either that, or this is my mid-life crisis and I'm gonna kick off real young, but I have my doubts about that. Women in my family tend to live into their nineties.
Anyway, it doesn't feel super crisis-y. I mean, I'm not rushing out and buying a new car or having an affair or getting tattoos (okay, I'm in the process of getting a tattoo, but for me that takes several years and involves a lot of pre-ink prep, so I don't think it really counts). I'm just...I don't know, actually, I have these little upheavals like every five years or so, maybe I'm just calling it a 1/3 life crisis this time.
I am a risk-averse person. I have had a plan for my life for a long time, and I have pretty much followed it, with some timeline and goal adjustments along the way. I hit my benchmarks, made my deadlines. I got where I was headed. And sometimes I look around me and think, how did I end up here? This is not my beautiful life! Maybe I forgot to plan for the part where I did anything really concrete, that I could hold onto as an accomplishment. Or maybe I didn't leave enough loose ends.
I live in the suburbs and have a terminal M.A. and a nice house and a mid-level white-collar job and an intact nuclear family and two dogs. Our lawn is neatly manicured by people who come every Saturday with leaf-blowers and rakes and hedge-trimmers. I pay someone else to clean for me, and my partner and I watch television and surf the internet in the evenings once the baby is in bed. Once a month my parents come down and kidsit for us while we catch a movie. I give money to charities and don't volunteer my time, though I know I should. My friends all live out of town, and I read a lot and keep to myself rather than dealing with the time and hassle of getting to know new people.
And the thing is, I'm not unhappy. My life is good. It's really good, and getting better all the time. It's just also small and unremarkable and fits neatly within the bounds of my demographic and I thought I was special, you know? A unique and beautiful snowflake. A statistical outlier. Different. I still think that, despite all evidence to the contrary. It's almost like I'm having an adolescent rebellion against my own life - it's different for me, you just don't understand - but there's nothing to push back against but me. (I hear that's how Pilates works, actually; you work against yourself. Maybe I'm in great existential shape now).
It's not sad, not worthy of pity. It's not like I "settled," gave up anything special to live an unspecial life - I never had a passion, either, though I always thought I'd find one, and so there was nothing else to pursue, really. I've flitted from interest to interest, never focusing on one thing for long, and I've had a lot of fun doing it. I love my friend R; I was talking to her about this and she said, "You're a generalist!" which was just about the nicest way anyone's ever put that. Yes! I am not a dilettante, I am a generalist! And, too, my life is not unspecial - I have work I enjoy and an amazing kid and a brilliant partner and wonderful friends and family and I learn new things every day - it's just special in quiet, invisible ways. I have a performative streak (which, ironically, I've been struggling to suppress for the past few decades) that makes me want my life to be special in exciting! visible! external ways.
I'm not sure why it matters, as long as I'm happy.
I'm just not totally sure I'm happy as long as it matters.
Still, this summer is amazing so far. I have a sense of wonder again, a sense of possibility. And I'm not sure which way the causality runs on that (are there good things in my life again because I'm happy? Or am I happy because there are good things in my life? Or is it all about the antidepressants?) but it's nice to feel like there's still somewhere up to go from here. I'm not sure where it is, or how to get there - maybe part of the problem is that I got as far as I had planned, and now I need a new direction - but I could go there. Any minute now.
Now, to make it happen. Ay, there's the rub.
Anyway, it doesn't feel super crisis-y. I mean, I'm not rushing out and buying a new car or having an affair or getting tattoos (okay, I'm in the process of getting a tattoo, but for me that takes several years and involves a lot of pre-ink prep, so I don't think it really counts). I'm just...I don't know, actually, I have these little upheavals like every five years or so, maybe I'm just calling it a 1/3 life crisis this time.
I am a risk-averse person. I have had a plan for my life for a long time, and I have pretty much followed it, with some timeline and goal adjustments along the way. I hit my benchmarks, made my deadlines. I got where I was headed. And sometimes I look around me and think, how did I end up here? This is not my beautiful life! Maybe I forgot to plan for the part where I did anything really concrete, that I could hold onto as an accomplishment. Or maybe I didn't leave enough loose ends.
I live in the suburbs and have a terminal M.A. and a nice house and a mid-level white-collar job and an intact nuclear family and two dogs. Our lawn is neatly manicured by people who come every Saturday with leaf-blowers and rakes and hedge-trimmers. I pay someone else to clean for me, and my partner and I watch television and surf the internet in the evenings once the baby is in bed. Once a month my parents come down and kidsit for us while we catch a movie. I give money to charities and don't volunteer my time, though I know I should. My friends all live out of town, and I read a lot and keep to myself rather than dealing with the time and hassle of getting to know new people.
And the thing is, I'm not unhappy. My life is good. It's really good, and getting better all the time. It's just also small and unremarkable and fits neatly within the bounds of my demographic and I thought I was special, you know? A unique and beautiful snowflake. A statistical outlier. Different. I still think that, despite all evidence to the contrary. It's almost like I'm having an adolescent rebellion against my own life - it's different for me, you just don't understand - but there's nothing to push back against but me. (I hear that's how Pilates works, actually; you work against yourself. Maybe I'm in great existential shape now).
It's not sad, not worthy of pity. It's not like I "settled," gave up anything special to live an unspecial life - I never had a passion, either, though I always thought I'd find one, and so there was nothing else to pursue, really. I've flitted from interest to interest, never focusing on one thing for long, and I've had a lot of fun doing it. I love my friend R; I was talking to her about this and she said, "You're a generalist!" which was just about the nicest way anyone's ever put that. Yes! I am not a dilettante, I am a generalist! And, too, my life is not unspecial - I have work I enjoy and an amazing kid and a brilliant partner and wonderful friends and family and I learn new things every day - it's just special in quiet, invisible ways. I have a performative streak (which, ironically, I've been struggling to suppress for the past few decades) that makes me want my life to be special in exciting! visible! external ways.
I'm not sure why it matters, as long as I'm happy.
I'm just not totally sure I'm happy as long as it matters.
Still, this summer is amazing so far. I have a sense of wonder again, a sense of possibility. And I'm not sure which way the causality runs on that (are there good things in my life again because I'm happy? Or am I happy because there are good things in my life? Or is it all about the antidepressants?) but it's nice to feel like there's still somewhere up to go from here. I'm not sure where it is, or how to get there - maybe part of the problem is that I got as far as I had planned, and now I need a new direction - but I could go there. Any minute now.
Now, to make it happen. Ay, there's the rub.
posted by The Stute Fish at 19:55
7 Comments:
I've been experiencing change every 2-3 years since high school. I'd kind of like to be rooted. I don't think that what I've done has been that exciting until I talk to others. It is different for you. You have done things that others think about and haven't done (you missed our ten year where the same people were living the same lives they had in high school, well except for the boob job) You, however, are not limited. You are only a generalist because there is so much to entice you in the world, so much to learn.
--Anonymuus
It's true; I suffer from the curse of too many shiny things. And I continue to pursue various shininesses - to coin a word - I just envy the focus that some people have, to really delve into one thing and do it well. I married one of those, and it's certianly part of the fascination, the way that he does what he does until he does it right and well, not just until the shiny wears off.
I think part of it is just the whole early motherhood thing. As a woman, you are always aware that you're being observed from the outside, or at least I always was. And then I became a mother, and it's like instant invisibility. I'm having trouble adjusting to being sexless and personless, oddly enough.
And 2-3 years - I hear you on the need to settle. How's the job search going? I am thinking good thoughts your way. And holy shit, you went to the 10-year? If we're still in touch for the 20, let me know (they've lost my address) and maybe I'll go. Perhaps all I need is a comparison group to remind me that it's not all that bad...
Job hunt? I've been employed since Sept. And just got a new/er car and pick up the keys to a new apartment on Friday, yay no more termites! Yah, the ten year was not worth the money and hardly anybody showed up, there were about a dozen interesting people and then the cool kids, maybe about sixty people of a class of a couple hundred. I think we'll still be in contact by the twenty year, it's only what, five years?
This entry really resonates with me; I've been thinking and thinking about a response -- I'll have to take some time and write one either to post here or send to you.
Anon - crap, I have been bad at keeping up! Sounds like life is good. And yeah, the 20 year...actually, no. I don't need to do that to myself.
Kathy - I'd love to talk to you about it. I'm pretty sure it's something I'm going to wrestle with off and on for a while.
C'mon, let's go make fun of the people who never did anything after highschool and are trying to relive those golden years as they age. And reconnect with some of our fellow misfits. It will be fun, promise.
--Anon
...
let's talk closer to the date. If it happened tomorrow I would be at home hiding under the bed, but who knows what will happen in five years?
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