The Truth About Your Late 30's
The Truth About Your Late 30's
I turned 37 last year.
It’s all new stuff, folks.
There are some downsides…
If I don’t wear eyeliner, I don’t really look like a person. I remember a day where I didn’t even own eyeliner.
I can’t think about fresh from the oven, puffy, white rolls. I can’t look at the rolls. I definitely can’t eat four of the rolls with butter. Well, I can, but then I weigh more than I did the last time I was pregnant.
I think my skin has gotten weird. Like it’s more sensitive to stuff than it used to be. And don’t tell me that I just need more probiotics. I started drinking Kombucha and I think I gained 5 pounds. For real.
Because that’s what happens when you drink things that are not water after the age of 35. It’s like liquid fat, no matter how “healthy” it is for you.
The kids are finally old enough that all four of them sleep through the night. I looked forward to this day for a long time. I was pretty sure it would be awesome. I felt sorry for myself frequently when I was nursing and staying up all night for 8 years straight.
Turns out, when it’s finally over, your adrenals are so worn out you can’t actually sleep more than six hours at a time. Then you wake up, at 4 am, and wonder what’s going on with the world.
If you try to develop new “good habits” like going to bed early, you just wake up to pee at 1 am and can’t get back to sleep.
When you are 37 you are a “real” adult. You do things like pay for health insurance and worry about not having life insurance. Because you are actually old enough to have a heart attack.
Or get pregnant.
This aligns with the other universe you have entered- old enough for wrinkles but young enough for zits.
It’s a strange place to be.
I remember when I thought the hardest thing ever would be having a bunch of babies. Haha. I laugh at myself!
The middle aged women weren’t even messing around when they said that I should enjoy those moments. They weren’t crazy. They weren’t forgetful.
NO- they had middle schoolers! They knew the end game!
It gets worse.
I saw a movie in the grocery checkout today. It was called, “Middle School- the worst years of my life,” and was ironically talking about the middle-schooler’s perspective.
I make an angry snort at this point.
Because everyone who has had a middle-schooler knows that it’s much harder on the parents.
I recently did a Google search for, “perimenopause.” I had never even heard of this word a short time ago. Now, I’m trying to figure out if I have it.
You know what else is true about your late 30s? It’s a lot like puberty or childbirth. I remember being shocked by puberty. I seriously did not know what was happening with my body.
Pregnancy is the same way.
I remember looking down and seeing these purple lines on my legs and wondering what they were. I had no idea that you could get stretch marks on places besides your belly.
And birth- don’t even get me started. Women tell horror stories, but so much is left out about the realities of childbirth- you know what I mean; all those tiny things that we are ashamed of and so don’t pass on.
Other moms just end up getting blind-sided, the same way we were.
Now, here I am again.
I’m a woman. My body is continuing to change. And I don’t know what’s going on. Nobody seems to really want to talk about it either.
I’m left feeling...well, I'm feeling a little bit crazy.
Once again, I’m also wondering if nobody talks about this stuff, or if I just wasn’t paying attention. If I look a little deeper, I also wonder why it is that we seem so generally embarrassed by all things female.
Maybe I’m reading into it a little, maybe I just wasn’t listening. Or maybe women are kind of embarrassed.
I admit, I was shuddering when I bought a jar of wild yam and some chaste tree tincture.
It’s kind of like buying tampons for the first time.
So there it is ladies, the TRUTH about your late 30's.
You need eye makeup.
Your kids get mean.
Your lady parts start freaking out in reverse.
You can’t eat carbs without immediate consequence.
You consider "friending" Christiane Northrup on Facebook. (She writes books about old lady health, in case you haven't heard of her. You will.)
And you don’t know who to talk to about it.
I’m painting a pretty picture, am I not?!
The upside is you stop caring so much about what people think of you and you’re about 10 years away from comfortably farting in public. You're more comfortable in your own skin and more confident, despite a softening middle.
May those of us who don't shop in the "Women's" or the "Junior" department, UNITE!