All These Lines on My Face Getting Clearer

Here's a photo of me in my twenties. So much attitude. So much bullshit.

What funny business this aging thing is. For the most part, I'd take being in my forties over my twenties any day. Sure, those lines are no longer so fine, and I can't bend at the knees without a loud, cracking protest from the place where my cartilage used to be, but it's an easy trade-off to finally be able to relax and like myself.

There was so much angst and unhappiness in my twenties. I would be paralyzed by what I used to call restlessness, but now know was something more akin to self-loathing. I felt threatened by almost everyone. I dressed in such a way and wore more than enough black eyeliner to let people know they wanted to avoid me. I hated you first and best - whomever you were. Gawd, how tedious I was.

Here is a photo the Dexter took of me dancing last month. So little shame. So much dorkiness.

I still see glimpses of my former self. Like this evening when Coadster asked me to go to her AP Government study session, so she could get extra credit. My immediate gut reaction was to go find my black leather motorcycle jacket and sit in the back of the class, surrounded by my invisible wall. To be honest, I did sit in the back of the class, and it took me a minute or two to warm up to finding someone who shared a similar political term. We had to match up terms, and the students then would write a sentence with them. The kid who's term went with mine, was a bigger dork than I was and his dad was totally pleasant. He now worked at ACT but had previously worked in the same office where I'm currently employed. He had seen me running down Rochester Street before. His wife arrived and she was also very nice. I suddenly remembered I wasn't an angst ridden freak anymore. I looked and acted (you know, for the most part) like a middle-aged mom. When did that happen?

When I was younger, I never thought I was enough of anything, and I dated guys who helped instill that in me. Now, my friend Ed jokes that I'll never meet a guy who likes me as much as I like myself, and it just might be true. Thank god I'm old.