What I’ve Learned In The Last 40 Years.

There’s something about being at the midpoint of life that has me feeling contemplative. It’s almost like it would be a disservice to myself if I didn’t take the time to look back and review the last forty years of my life to learn from my mistakes as I move forward.

The First Ten Years

I was such an awkward child, and because of that, I didn’t have many friends in school. I know that most people my age are grateful they’re not growing up in this era. But from what I’ve seen at the schools I’ve taught at, the kids are more accepting of different now than they were three decades ago.

If I could go back to my younger self and tell her one thing it would be to not listen to them all. I internalized so much of what the other kids said about me that it took me decades of my life to finally accept myself the way I was made. I never believed I was awesome or cool. What I did subscribe to was the notion that I would always be different, unlovable, unworthy, and unsuccessful.

While I will always be odd, I’ve found my people, and they love the fact that I am different. My kids think I’m the coolest mom they know. And once I finally buckled down and decided to concentrate on what I love to do instead of what everyone thought I should do, I became successful.

Don’t listen to the haters.

The Teen Years

I wish I could go back in a time machine and tell myself that none of this, the crap that I dealt with from age eleven to nineteen would matter. These were the years where I not only discovered myself but then put her back into the closet. I somehow concluded that if I were myself, then no one would like me. I spent ten years of my life pretending to be someone I wasn’t, and only those closest to me ever saw a glimpse of the real me. No wonder I didn’t make any close friends, I never let anyone in.

This was the age where I discovered music as an outlet that took me through the most painful period of my life. I was an awkward teenager, who at sixteen looked more like a twelve-year-old boy developmentally than a young woman. I felt imprisoned by my body, the description of an awkward teenager only nipped at the surface of how I felt.

Born a girl, but more a boy than I wanted to admit I tried to fit into the box that society said I should be happy to reside inside of. I hated it, dresses, makeup, the drama. I hung out with guys. I didn’t date them even though I wanted to. But they always saw me as the best friend, the buddy that played wallball and Nintendo with them. I wasn’t the dating type. I tore myself apart from the inside out trying to fit in. I starved and cut myself because it was the only thing I could control. Because I couldn’t change who I was no matter how hard I tried.

Living inside of a box only makes you feel more alone.

My Twenties

I was reckless in my twenties, but in my defense, I have to say that if there was ever a time in life where such behavior should be condoned, it’s your twenties. I went to places I shouldn’t have and hung out with people I knew better than to associate with and somehow managed to not wind up dead in a ditch somewhere. It’s a miracle.

But in all my ill-conceived plans I learned a lot about myself. I learned resilience. I dreamed big and failed miserably. I got up and did it all over again. I tried on new hats, personalities, and people all in an attempt to figure out just who I am. I got my heart broken, epically, and lived to tell the tale. But I also got wrapped up in my need to fit in with the crowd. The fear of missing out pushed me to do things I never would attempt now.

I lost people I loved, and that grief kept me mired in place for years. I didn’t do anything. For the second half of my twenties, I just existed, and when I look back now, it sickens me the time I wasted that I will never get back.

Don’t waste your time on things that don’t matter, don’t elevate you, and don’t help you become the person you were meant to be.

Thirtysomething

The first thing I remember about my thirties was that I died. But I know now that I had to experience that “death” to be reborn. I just existed before that. I would never have had the courage to change my life for the better if I hadn’t gone through hell to appreciate what I had. Sometimes we need that lightning bolt from fate to kick us in the pants and get us moving again.

I upended my entire life in the pursuit of happiness. I changed my career, went back to school, and took care of a new family. It was tough as I struggled with changes to my body and my life, but it was worth it in the end. I wound up in a place that I never dreamed I would go, and there’s no way I would have arrived here if I hadn’t turned myself over entirely to fate.

Letting go isn’t easy, but it’s essential to reach your potential.

When I pondered the meaning of life as a college freshman, it seemed so elusive, something I would never figure out. Twenty years later the answer to the same question is so simple that it almost makes me laugh.

The meaning of life is twofold. It’s learning to be kind to everyone even the people you hate because kindness explodes exponentially. It changes lives. It makes you better. But the meaning of life is also learning how to live with yourself, your choices, or the lack thereof. It’s becoming who you were meant to be whatever that is because it’s never what you dreamed up as a child. And once you let go and let whatever force guides your life to take over. It becomes so much easier to live in your skin and to not only exist but to thrive.

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Thank you for reading my words and if you liked them, don't forget to tap that heart to let me know. And if you left a tip, I thank you. xoxo M.E.