My thoughts on turning thirty-one.
I feel I've aged 10 years in just one. This is a direct result of my mom being diagnosed last summer, at the age of 50, with stage four endometrial cancer. And although I don't have cancer, her diagnosis impacts me and what I might have to face in my future. My mom is currently getting tested for lynch's disorder. Truthfully, I've never googled it, but I've been told that it predisposes you to certain types of cancers such as colon and endometrial. It's a genetic disorder and if she is positive than I might be as well. I was sharing this with friends recently and I said, "I'm turning thirty-one and all I feel I have to look forward to are colonoscopies and uterine biopsies." I realized later that afternoon how mello-dramatic that statement was, and I was able to laugh at myself a bit.
As I'm settling into my thirties, I've realized that life will be quite different than the life I lived in my twenties. It's as if I went on a huge life shopping spree. I'll take that man. I'll take that house in that neighborhood. I'll take this job. Oh, and throw some kids in, too. Now, my pocketbook is much thinner, but my house is full of all the stuff I've bought. There isn't a good return policy on life choices so now I've got to live the life I've chosen.
Don't get me wrong, I would make the same choices again. I'm thankful for that fact. Well, at least most of the major choices (I'm not one to say that I don't regret anything because it has "made me what I am today". A little regret can be a healthy, humbling experience.) What I'm really missing is the excitement of the choices lying in front of me. I might phrase this as a longing for youth as I see mine slipping away. This, I know, is also fairly mello-dramatic so feel free to laugh at me as I laugh at myself.
I can call it what I want, but if you strip it down it is a seed of discontent. A little bitter piece can spoil what is otherwise a good lot. I have a good lot and I don't want it spoiled. So that is my challenge as I go forward.
My thought on being married nine years.
We've officially passed the point in our relationship where we've been together longer than we were apart. We have a quantum entanglement. (I stole that from Survivor.) If we were to unwrap from each other, I'm not sure what would be left whole. That's not on our minds (the unwrapping part), but it's interesting to contemplate. It's interesting to understand how much of our lives is built on the other.
Things have been turning this year. I haven't been able to quite put my finger on it. It seems the list of things we fight about has changed. The old items have either been resolved or accepted. We've crossed them off our "To Argue Over" list. Some new items have been added, though. All of our hopes and goals that we created together during premarital counseling have either been achieved or are obsolete. We have been working on dreaming up some more. What can we make as a team besides children?
Somehow, we are starting a new phase. A phase that didn't announce itself with a graduation party or a wedding reception. It sort of snuck up on us, and we are trying to acknowledge it's existence. I'm being vague because this new phase is vague, and we are realizing we have to give it some form.
It's nice to know that I still like Stephen Williams very much. He tells me the feeling is mutual.
.
I feel I've aged 10 years in just one. This is a direct result of my mom being diagnosed last summer, at the age of 50, with stage four endometrial cancer. And although I don't have cancer, her diagnosis impacts me and what I might have to face in my future. My mom is currently getting tested for lynch's disorder. Truthfully, I've never googled it, but I've been told that it predisposes you to certain types of cancers such as colon and endometrial. It's a genetic disorder and if she is positive than I might be as well. I was sharing this with friends recently and I said, "I'm turning thirty-one and all I feel I have to look forward to are colonoscopies and uterine biopsies." I realized later that afternoon how mello-dramatic that statement was, and I was able to laugh at myself a bit.
As I'm settling into my thirties, I've realized that life will be quite different than the life I lived in my twenties. It's as if I went on a huge life shopping spree. I'll take that man. I'll take that house in that neighborhood. I'll take this job. Oh, and throw some kids in, too. Now, my pocketbook is much thinner, but my house is full of all the stuff I've bought. There isn't a good return policy on life choices so now I've got to live the life I've chosen.
Don't get me wrong, I would make the same choices again. I'm thankful for that fact. Well, at least most of the major choices (I'm not one to say that I don't regret anything because it has "made me what I am today". A little regret can be a healthy, humbling experience.) What I'm really missing is the excitement of the choices lying in front of me. I might phrase this as a longing for youth as I see mine slipping away. This, I know, is also fairly mello-dramatic so feel free to laugh at me as I laugh at myself.
I can call it what I want, but if you strip it down it is a seed of discontent. A little bitter piece can spoil what is otherwise a good lot. I have a good lot and I don't want it spoiled. So that is my challenge as I go forward.
My thought on being married nine years.
We've officially passed the point in our relationship where we've been together longer than we were apart. We have a quantum entanglement. (I stole that from Survivor.) If we were to unwrap from each other, I'm not sure what would be left whole. That's not on our minds (the unwrapping part), but it's interesting to contemplate. It's interesting to understand how much of our lives is built on the other.
Things have been turning this year. I haven't been able to quite put my finger on it. It seems the list of things we fight about has changed. The old items have either been resolved or accepted. We've crossed them off our "To Argue Over" list. Some new items have been added, though. All of our hopes and goals that we created together during premarital counseling have either been achieved or are obsolete. We have been working on dreaming up some more. What can we make as a team besides children?
Somehow, we are starting a new phase. A phase that didn't announce itself with a graduation party or a wedding reception. It sort of snuck up on us, and we are trying to acknowledge it's existence. I'm being vague because this new phase is vague, and we are realizing we have to give it some form.
It's nice to know that I still like Stephen Williams very much. He tells me the feeling is mutual.
.
It's interesting timing for me that you have posted this now. Matt and I just celebrated our five-year anniversary and have recognized that we are settled into being married. The newness of it, the "honeymoon" period, is definitely over. We are now learning how to raise kids, work through day-to-day routines and difficulties and figure out what God has for us next, since maybe than having another baby, things aren't really going to change much for us. We are also starting to understand how to laugh at how quickly our youth is fleeting, even though we are ages 30 and 32 respectively. It's good to know that we can laugh about it together.:o)
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