A couple of weeks ago I was at a large gathering where they were identifying three subgroups by age. Eighteen to thirty-four, thirty-five to fifty-four, and fifty-five and up. I stood for the second group a bit shocked at first to realize I was part of the middle age group. Most days I feel like my adult life is just starting to take off, that I could still use a mentor or two (or three) to help me figure out things, but in all actuality my children are closer to traditional college age than I am. This shocks me. In ten years I could potentially have one of my children out of my house either gainfully employed or in college. Ten years!
I have been thinking a lot about how much I have changed in the last eight to twelve years. My hair has grey in it, and I don't think I will color it, unless I color it something fun like streaks of purple. My body has more or less settle into a clothing size that I am not thrilled with but I am less thrilled with the idea of giving up dessert at this phase of life. I've had two babies and I don't like sit-ups, therefore I will have a pooch. I have age spots on my hands, and I had my first mammogram this summer, which will be a yearly thing from here on out even if insurance doesn't pay.
But more than the physical changes, I think of the subtle changes that have taken place over time. I have figured out a lot of what I believe to be true about myself, the world and God, but I know there is still more to learn about all of those things. I have become passionate about some educational practices and parenting styles while also realizing my passion doesn't have to be dogma for someone else to live by in their own homes and families. I think that took me longer to realize than it should have. I am still figuring out how marriage works, almost thirteen years in. We are in a really good place in marriage overall, but there is always work to be done in communication and service and humility. I am lazy enough to wish that there wasn't work to be done in any of those areas.
Moving across the country has helped me recognize some things about myself that I don't know that I would have realized otherwise. I realize I was really lucky to have fairly easy to come by friendships the first twenty-two-ish years of my life, but the last decade and a half have required more effort and patience from me. I have realized more than ever that probably one of my favorite things is just sitting in someone's kitchen or living room with a cup of coffee with no agenda other than to just converse. I'm introverted enough to not want a party but extroverted enough to need regular interaction with adults, and because I am an INFJ small talk doesn't cut it.
I think twenty-something Amanda would have thought I would have accomplished more by this point - a book, another piece of paper stating more of what I've learned, a few local bosom friends - but most days thirty-six year old me is a bit too tired to think about the what ifs. Most days, days when I'm not asked to stand up to identify with a certain age group, it's enough to just be where I am, plugging along with marriage and motherhood and catching up on a This Is Us episode when the schedule allows. Most days I am okay with the grey hair and the mama-pooch because I know both are blessings that not everyone gets to experience. Most days I can remember at some point before the sun goes down that each day is a gift.