So I’ve been 31 for just over a week now. I don’t know how different I feel, but I do always love when people ask. I think my answer depends more on the asker than my actual feelings.
My 20-year-old classmates usually get the quick and self-deprecating, “Old.” Followed quickly by a short litany about feeling your age vs acting it. Most people here seem to agree I don’t look my age (in a good way. I credit the Vancouver air), but I still feel it sometimes.
Those feelings manifest themselves in very interesting ways, ways that I never would have expected.
I was listening to a podcast, where they mentioned Flashbulb memories, and the example they used was, “Where were you when you found out about 9/11?”. Immediately I was transported to my moms bedroom. I was 14 (although to be honest, I had to do the math on that. I could have sworn I was 11 or 12.), and she had woken me up earlier than usual (about 6am PST). I wondered why, but I seem to remember her solemnly telling me something had happened and that I should come into her room and listen to the radio. She always had CBC come on as her alarm, and that day was no different. I don’t remember all the details. After that it’s little snapshots of the day. I was downstairs watching the TV. My mom told me to get ready for school. I opened the door and my friends that I walked to school with were at the door. We all asked each other at the same time if they had heard the news. We walked to school, and some of us tried to make some connection to New York. We mostly came up with nothing. We were 14 year old kids on the west coast. I had never even been east of BC at that point. I distinctly remember I had Japanese class that morning. I remember feeling lucky because my teacher had a TV in his classroom. We all got into class, sat down and continued watching the coverage. Our teacher walked in, turned the TV off and said it was time for a pop quiz. I very clearly remember thinking some people have no connection to the world outside of them, and really can’t read a room. I remember thinking that teacher was one of those people.
All of these memories aside, while listening to the podcast I wondered how my classmates would react to that question, and I suddenly realized, most of them for 4 or 5 years old. They probably have no idea where they were, and could probably guess that they were at kindergarten or daycare.
That made me feel old.
When my mom asked me how I felt about being 31, I quickly stifled the kneejerk, “Old” and beamed out an “Okay”.
It’s still not an, “I feel great!” but I’m working on it. I look at my life currently, and it certainly doesn't look like the life of a 31-year-old. This is by no means an average sampling, but my friends in Canada are mostly in long-term cohabitation relationships, engaged, married, pregnant, or already parents. I’m studying for exams, work in a Mexican dive bar (and love it), unmarried, not a parent (to the best of my knowledge) and not living with P (Yes, we have a (seriously) long-distance relationship; yes, it’s tough; yes, we are doing okay with it; no, we are not going to break up; yes, I miss him; and no, we are not engaged). I live in a foreign country, and I’m getting a bachelors at 31. My best friend (who is only a few months older than me) completed her masters a few years ago and is thinking about going to law school! In some ways, I know when my life was put on pause, but I wish I’d hit play again sooner than I did.
The other day I just danced… in my room, by myself, with my headphones on, for like 20 minutes. I don’t know if other 31 years olds do that, or if anyone does, but I sure hope I keep acting like that. I don’t feel my age, but I don’t feel 21 either. One of my 21-year-old friends here was going to 90’s themed party at a club, and while I was happy for the invite, my 31-year-old body was way happier to chill at home, watch movies, and drink hot chocolate (plus the idea of going to a party themed like my prepubescence seemed kind of horrific). At 21 I was a very different person. Despite the fact that my day had just died, and I had no idea what the hell I was doing with my life, I also had no perspective on life. At 21 life was happening to me, not with me My mom once summarized a theory for me, and while I can’t remember exactly how it goes, the general idea is this,
“When you are 5, a year is 20% of your life, when you are 50, one year is 2% of your life. To put it another way, when you’re 20, half of your life is only 10 years, and half of those 10 years you can’t even remember. When you’re 40, half of your life is 20 years, and you can remember the big parts of the past 30 years. The older you get, the more there is to draw on, the more there is to remember, and the more there is to forget. The reason it feels like each year is moving faster and faster is because, in a sense, it is. The more you do, you more the learn, the more people you meet, and the more you live, the more you fill your head with memories, and the small ones become smaller, but the big ones become bigger.”
I’m not saying our memories have a finite amount of space, or that we only remember the really big, important things, but for me, each passing year does put the previous years into a little more perspective. I love and appreciate everything I’ve done up to this point in my life. I don’t regret anything I’ve done or felt, because each of those things has made me who I am (and I really like who I am).
I guess at the end of the day, and near the end of my life (whenever that may be), I will always remember something my Grandpa said to my mom on his 80th birthday.
He was standing in the front hall of his home, and it was during his birthday party. My mom came across him staring at himself in the front hall mirror and asked if everything was okay. He sighed and answered, “Yes, but sometimes I don’t understand what the mind of a 20-year-old is doing in this body.”
It’s not how old we are, it’s how old we feel. I hope I never lose my desire to have dance parties by myself, but also always take time to watch movies and drink hot chocolate on a Saturday evening. I may wish my life had gone a certain way up until this point, and sometimes feel like I missed a few chances along the way, but if I hadn’t missed those things, I wouldn’t be here now, and what I’m doing now (while it’s sometimes really hard, and makes me question my sanity), is absolutely amazing, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.
