Is This What They Call A Mid-Life Crisis?

Something interesting happened when I turned 40.  I learned that the rules that I created for myself were no longer applicable.  For instance, I now prefer small gatherings to large crowds, and my circle of friends is now very select.    A job is just that…a J-O-B and it does not take precedence over my own time.  While the money may be good, I have my limits on the devotion I will offer entities that will not love me back. I enjoy the time I spend alone and no longer feel that a person can fill a void that only I own. 

I can now sleep with a man on my terms rather than his and understand that sex is just an act, while love is an energy reserved for someone very special.  It’s now much easier to compartmentalize the men who cross my path which helps to alleviate the confusion that eventually seemed to occur when I was younger. 

The skepticism, however, is the downside of my life after 40.  One may chalk it up to experience, as sometimes the strongest lessons we learn in life are the ones that resulted in getting our teeth kicked in.  Getting my hopes up is not something that happens often anymore.  Oftentimes the excitement and giddiness is lost as a result of too much analysis.

I recently realized that my childhood dreams of love and marriage were not that of my friends.  While most little girls dreamt of a big wedding, I never envisioned wearing a white wedding dress and planning my own wedding.  I always knew that the marriage was more important than the wedding itself.  The family that all of my friends wanted was never in my picture of my future.  The house in the suburbs was in no way something that I desired.  However, when I was little girl, I felt that I would meet and marry my best friend.  We would have a love that is unconditional and filled with mutual respect.  I still have that dream.

I wanted to travel, to work as a professional in a career that I was passionate about, and have someone I loved in my life.  For years, I have talked about moving to Boston, but have come up with a million reasons not to do it – either it’s too big or too expensive or I’m not ready start over.  The excuses never end.  I always loved writing but chose the sensible route of studying accounting.  In my mind’s eye, I felt that if sensibility equaled safety. 

I have since revised my equation to say that sensibility equals a very, very mundane life.  I do not consider these mistakes, but the choices I have made have led me to a place where I’m bored.  Is this a mid-life crisis?  I’m also wondering if I have the energy to do all of the things I have wanted to do.

This is the point where I believe like people start to consider their “bucket lists”, which for those of you who haven’t seen the movie is the list of things you want to do before you kick the bucket.

I have now started to dream of my future.  Now my vision of life is filled with travel, romance, and life experiences that capture the essence of life.  I want to see the Sistine Chapel, to walk the Great Wall of China, and to visit the Egyptian Pyramids.  I want to taste the ethnic cuisines in the countries that they represent.  I want to be active and healthy.  I want to be open to moving.  I want to perform in a play.  I want to be an activist for cause.  I want to utilize my God-given talent, as I believe that we all have one.  I want to do something great.  I want to be intrinsically satisfied with my accomplishments.  I want to live without fear.

I looked forward to turning 40 because these feelings of change would come to fruition.  I experience these changes daily. While there are periods where I do not feel quite like myself (a.k.a. lost), I eagerly anticipate the end result and expect that I will accomplish everything I set out to do.  This process consists of taking the steps in the direction that I feel I should have gone the first time around.  I believe that it’s important to be gentle with myself in making these decisions rather than judging myself for waiting so long to pursue the necessary measures.  Because this is a process, I would be remiss if I didn’t add to my wish list the quality of patience. The accomplishments are the evolutionary process of the person I want to be in the life I want to live. 

I’m not worried, though.  I’ll get there.  I’m confident of that much.

The Painful Truth

My mother, my sister and I visited my Filipino aunt and cousins – all women - in San Diego, CA. I haven’t seen this part of my family in over 30 years and have been cheerfully anticipating our visit.  I envisioned warm moments filled with ethnic food and laughter.  Together we would bask in the happiness and successes that all we cousins have all accomplished in our personal and professional lives.  We would reflect upon our similarities and differences as women and embrace each other’s lives with both fascination and respect.  

It turns out that I come from a long line of beautiful women.  This is certainly a blessing to them and a curse to me.  I know this because my aunt and my mother reign it over me as if I am the unfortunate, deformed child who has a cleft lip.  I wish I could exchange her for a woman who is more pleasant to look at, my aunt seems to imply.  She’s not the beautiful one, but at least I have another; look in the direction of her sister my mother telepathically responds.

I know this because their lack of tact allows them to unapologetically tell me the fact that I’m not thin, ergo I’m unattractive.  Evidently, when English is your second language, you can say whatever your want.  These comments come in the form of You should eat more fruits and vegetables because it’s not so fatty, to That would be good exercise for you or You must wear a large, right?

Oh, Leana, your sister is so thin and sexy.

They actually discussed the notion that it might be better if they didn’t say such things while I’m in the room however my sister, already having received the prerequisite endorsement from my aunt, sadly had to inform them that it’s not okay to acknowledge such things at all.  I know, because I was sitting at the table with them and listened to the entire exchange.  It took all of the strength I could muster to choke back the tears long enough to make it to the other room before I could no longer control their release.

I am a little surprised, however, that they haven’t linked the fact that I am still single to the fact that I’m so hideous.  So maybe I’m overreacting as they haven’t necessarily touched on the fact that I’m completely useless, but there’s no mention as to what they actually like about me either.  It’s almost like they don’t know what to say to me because I AM the elephant in the room.  Not much interest is given to me regarding my career, my interests nor my life.  Nobody seems to be grateful that I’m alive at all, given the emergency surgery I had four years ago which resulted in complications that almost killed me.

Instead, the focus is on my weight and I am so thoroughly over with it.  While I wished to avoid any mad drama, I have made clear how unacceptable their comments are.  I’m quite certain that my maternal relations suffer from a mild form of turrets syndrome that has permanently damaged their verbal filter. Rather than listen, they think aloud rather than examining the necessity of their words.  Their remarks, while designed to be helpful, slash at my heart like repeated wounds to my soul.

I have therefore revised my picture of this particular family reunion to a more realistic one – a visit with a relative with whom I do not share the loving closeness one always hopes for in long lost relatives.  An interesting development to my visit is reconnecting with three of my cousins and meeting their wonderful husbands, where I found the kindred spirit that I had hoped to find but in a different context, for we have all fallen prey to such negatively charged comments.  Rather than sharing our experiences with disdain, we were somehow able to laugh our way through it, which somehow took away the feeling of isolation as well as helped to rally the strength for the next surprise attack.  I definitely look forward to our next encounter.

As for my aunt, she acknowledges that she is a lot to take, but her intentions and her heart are in the right place.  Despite her loud and overbearing personality, she loves me very much and, with the distance, I have decided that I love her too.