Another Year Passes

I have only had one birthday that flipped me out. Turning 30 did it to me. And that’s not even completely accurate. About 3 weeks before that birthday, I had a meltdown. I think it was because thirty had always been something that was *out there* in the far distance. And then suddenly, I realized that, no, in fact it wasn’t. It was RIGHT THERE staring me in the face.  I told everyone, though, “pay no attention to me, I’ll get over this and be fine.” and I was.  When 30 actually arrived, I was cool and excited.

Enter 36.  I haven’t had any reaction to it. I think mostly, it is  just a number.  That before was more about my success/failure ratio in life or like “Time To Truly Be An Adult. All The Time.”  My success/failure ratio in *that* is an entirely other blog post. 

One thing that hasn’t ever changed, though, is that I always seem to think back on the year on my birthday. Well, on the birthdays I wasn’t too drunk to manage it. I’ve never felt the need to do the resolution thing in January. I only do those because they are expected of me and I never stick with them. If I don’t outright fail in two weeks, I “joke” that I am giving them up for Lent.

Today, I realized this year has actually been noticeably different from every other in the amount of changes that I have made in my life. I can’t say they were conscious changes that I was making to follow some big *PLAN* I had in my head.  Had I this big plan? I dare say people around me would have been a lot less happy with me. I would have been hyper-focused, fixated, and generally just a pain in the ass.

But as I think through the months , with the high and lows glaring out at me, I have noticed a few patterns that also stick out just as clearly. I don’t think I cried this year any less than I did on any other given year. However, this year, I think I finally started paying attention to *why* I was crying.  I made some changes based on those observations.  There were people who had to go.   Some of them…it wasn’t hard, actually. Others, it was wrenching.

There were other people who needed to ‘come back.’  Some of them were just more distant that I wanted them to be. Others were completely gone. Looking back, each time, I had to realize my own part in these ‘extravaganzas’ and bitch-slap my pride into taking that first step. Whether I had been in the right or wrong, I was the one that wanted those people back in my life. I was incredibly lucky in that I wasn’t refused even once. And if I ever had a modicum of doubt in the wisdom of asking them back, they assuaged it by the fact that never once was I made to squirm as they ”considered.’ 

This year hasn’t all been this one long success story that it feels like I was telling up there.  I have failed. Hugely. In things I thought I had already conquered.  I did shit that I swore I was above doing.  I’ve been childish, hurtful, and thoughtless. However, If I were going to give myself a grade for the year, I think I have honestly become “An Adult.” I just still need some work on that “All The Time” bit.


~ by Layla on December 1, 2009.

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