Nurture

Truth, Lies, and Age. Geez, when was the last time I lied about my age? Probably when I was 20 passing for 21. Or maybe 16 passing for 20. The truth is, I always wanted to be older. Older was more interesting, more sophisticated, and less…. well less naive.

I grew up in a small town. Conservative. They still are. And I wasn’t. And I knew I wasn’t. And I didn’t quite understand why, but I knew I was in the wrong place. I would have lied to get out of there. I didn’t have to. I convinced my guidance counselor to let me go to college. I told him to tell me what I needed to do to finish school. I pointed to my years of double math and double science. I passed his tests. He let me go. I was 16 and persistent.

I had a gut feeling, not some real world awareness of possibilities. So given that I was in college at 16, I had a few years of misleading people about my age. I needed to “pass” there. Well, more than pass. I wanted to get into a bar at 17. And I got an apartment at 17.

I look at kids today, now that my nephew is in his 20s and my niece is in her teens. Huh, they don’t seem to be very much like me at those ages. Truth? The way I see myself now, I was stubborn and so full of myself then (probably still am). I was so convinced I wanted to be older, I was jumping ahead to it.

Where is the truth? In my twenties I seemed pretty happy with my age. And now in my thirties, I am proud and yet… still in a bit of shock. My body snapped back to shape after kids. I can see how my face has changed, the maturity moving into my body for an extended stay. I tend to raise an eyebrow to it, “huh, is this aging?” Am I wiser? I wanted to be wiser! Am I more confident? I don’t know, I keep reaching for my edges! Am I less naive? Yes. How could so many years pass by. I recently said, “twenty years ago I was…” And you know what I was doing 20 years ago?

A sophomore in college. The year of Desert Storm.

Storm. I tease my daughter sometimes to call me that when we are playing, because of my giant gray streak. She thinks this is funny. A client suggested I color my hair. Going gray early… it started when I was 17… one strand, then dozens, and hundreds now.

Really? I should cover that up? Really, someone is actually advising me to cover that up? They must not understand me. Reminds me of the gay restaurant owner who told me to wear tighter clothes when waitressing. I am sorry about the job, sir. I am already constraining myself to be in this job.

You may ask me to change my appearance in a few select ways. However, I am my age. I look the way I look. I would accept a nudge to get a haircut, but not to get it colored. Is that odd?

Why does this matter so much? I want people to see that truth in me and then see how they can love who they are too – and then be encouraged to be themselves.

Truth, Lies, and Age. We need more amazing women who show off their age. Sexy, brilliant, confident women. That is the truth.