On Turning 35
In two weeks, I’m turning 35.
35.
I don’t feel 35, but then, I guess I really have no idea what 35 ought to feel like. It feels a little crazy if I think about it too hard, a little bit dizzying, like three glasses of Prosecco on an empty stomach or too many rides on the Top Thrill Dragster.
I know it’s probably cliche’, but I keep starting to have that internal discussion with myself that goes something like, “Are you where you’re supposed to be? Have you totally screwed up your life? Should you be someplace else?” This is ridiculous, of course, especially for someone who knows with every fiber of her being that God is in the driver’s seat. Whenever this conversation starts, the down-to-earth, practical side of me kind of mentally slaps (gently) the other, emotionally-driven, worrier side of me, and she shuts up for a while.
Who am I at 35? I’m a girlfriend for the first time in about a decade. I’m a Managing Editor (a job title that would have sounded so glamorous to me two years ago. The truth is, I don’t actually edit anything, unfortunately. What I do feels more like air-traffic control, except that it’s in the publishing business). I’m a writer-who’s-working-on-it. I’m a runner. I’m a Christian who feels like she’s spiritually crawling on some days, leaping and dancing on others.
Who am I not at 35? I’m not a wife. I’m not a mother. Does it seem like these are things I should be? Well, yes. They do. They are things I want to be, in the deepest parts of my heart and soul. Do I struggle with this not being part of my present? Yes again. The season of wedding-after-wedding has ended, and I got through that in one piece. Now it’s the season of baby-after-baby, and I’m getting through that. But there are random moments of panic when I wonder if my eggs will be all dried up by the time I get to attempt the pregnancy thing. I figure that’s a normal fear for a 35-year-old woman, and yeah, I know there are “so many advances in fertility treatments, and more all the time,” but thinking about that feels panicky, too. So when I feel panicky, I just tell God about it, and He always just says, “Trust ME,” and I take a deep breath and let the panic out and let the peace in. Because I DO trust Him. He’s earned it.
The wife/mother thing aside, there are great things about being 35, things I wouldn’t trade in return for being younger. At 35, I know myself at a level that feels really good. I know what I need to be healthy – what I need emotionally, what I need in relationships and in my work, what I need to feel balanced, what I need in order to be able to feel connected to God, what I need in order to be restored when I’m worn out. It feels good knowing these things about myself because it means I can make sure these needs are met, and I can take care of myself on a deeper level than I could at 30, or 25, or 20.
I know, too, what I want to do with the rest of my life. Well, I always knew what I wanted to do, I just didn’t know how to actually do it, how to make it happen, and so I kind of shelved it and ignored it for years and years until it became clear that it was going to be impossible to keep living that way, just plodding along, not doing the only thing I was made to do. It only took three careers to figure it out – but I guess that’s not bad, compared to some people. Anyway, I have an actual plan now. I’m praying God endorses it.
At 35, I also know some things about my character, things that make me feel solid and grounded, because I know I can rely on these parts of myself to show up when needed. I know that I’m strong, that I’m resilient, that I have the ability to bounce back after crises and major transitions and deep, wrenching loss. I know that I have courage, guts, moxie, whatever name you want to give it. I know that I have passion and conviction and creativity and drive. Some portion of these traits developed thanks to my mother and her example, but I think God has refined them in me, made them more holy and Jesus-ish.
I’m more accepting of my flaws at 35. I have accepted that I will have selfish moments about which I will feel very bad, but which will happen anyway because I’m inherently selfish, as we all are. I have accepted that I will hurt people without intending to because I tend to be incredibly blunt, and that I will probably never stop having to apologize for the way I say things. I have accepted that I will always struggle with patience. And no, these aren’t my only flaws, but they’re some of the ones I deal with day to day.
I have accepted that my body will never be perfect, that I will probably always be fighting against 5 or 10 or 15 pounds that want to hang around. But I’ve also learned to be amazed by my body and its capabilities. It’s a rather miraculous creation after all (not surprising, really, knowing God). It can run several miles without stopping. It can bend and flex and lift and move in rhythm to music. It can think and write and sing and laugh and take me anywhere I want to go.
My friends Ashley and George are working on a new design for this blog right now, and when they sent the prototype, I thought it was probably time for a fresh author photo to go with it. So my friend Michelle, who is a stellar photographer, designer, and all-around creative genius, took about a hundred photos of me in an alleyway in downtown Grand Rapids. She did a great job – there are shots of me laughing, looking pissed off, smiling seductively, gazing into the distance, and so on. There were almost too many to choose from. I chose the photo we all (Michelle, me, friends and family) seemed to like best, but the photo below is the one I keep coming back to, because it evokes how I feel right now. There’s a sense of relaxed waiting in this shot, if that makes sense, like I’m watching something come towards me. I’m leaning against the wall, but it looks like I’m poised to casually push away from it at any moment and start moving towards whatever I’m looking at. There is motion behind the stillness – I’m not just doing nothing here.
This is what life feels like right now: a season of relaxed waiting and watching, with movement imminent. There is work to be done and there are moments to savor and enjoy, but there is change coming, and I’m watching it get closer, I’m getting ready for it, I’m waiting for my cue to move forward, but there’s no tension in that. I feel relaxed about where I am, and relaxed about what’s coming (except for the random moments of irrational panic about the viability of my eggs). I don’t know if this is what 35 should feel like (can we really attach “should feel like” to any stage of life?), but for me, this is what it does feel like. It doesn’t feel perfect, but it does feel right.
I know that most of the time we are all waiting for something to arrive, even if that something is just a change in ourselves. At five, I was waiting to start school. At twelve, I was waiting to be a teenager. At fourteen, I was waiting to be a high school student. At seventeen, I was waiting to start college. At 23, I was waiting to get a job. The list of things I have waited for goes on and on, and most of them are natural things, things we all wait for. I think, at 35, I have accepted that I will always be waiting for something, because that’s just how life is, and that the key isn’t to try to stop being in a place of waiting, but to really live in the waiting – to not let the waiting be a “pause” button that stops your life from moving, but a part of the thumping of your heart, a part of the energy that propels you to enjoy the place you’re in as completely as you can, because eventually there will be another season, then another, and another.
I feel better having written this, because it’s helped me realize that I am happier and more at peace at 35 than I have ever been. If 35 just means continuing to be me, continuing to live this life that’s obviously so grace-filled and overflowing with God’s blessings, continuing to work and dream and wait and be challenged and grow and enjoy, then 35 sounds pretty good. I think maybe I can handle it. 🙂
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Hi Harmony – this is your old friend from Detroit, Emily Hardin. I’ve just been reading up on your blogs and I love them. What a wonderful gift you have. Your most recent entry reminds me so much that no matter how much we all do in our lives – most of us are left wondering if we’ve done enough or if we’ve really made the most of our chances and gifts. It somehow gives me great comfort to know that you (someone that I look at as having accomplished so much) still feels that way sometimes. Happy 35th! I’m turning 33 on Friday (uggh). Lots of love to you Harmony! – Emily
Thanks Emily, that means a lot. Miss having you in my life! Much love~
L.O.V.E. this post…and love you even more Miss Harmony!
Hi you don’t know me but I have just stumbled on your blogs and really enjoyed what I’ve read. It seems we have a shared appreciation of finding the holy in what’s around us. I have a blog with similar aspirations to this although probably not quite so crafted with my words. Feel free to pop over sometime.
carry on the good work.
Matt
I enjoyed reading your reflections. Thanks.
God is so gracious as he walks with us.
Kath