That said, I must confess that the weeks leading up to the big 3-0 were wrought with emotion and dread. My husband would ask me repeatedly, "are you freaking out about turning 30?" I knew the answer was yes, but I couldn't articulate why.
It wasn't until a week ago that I realized exactly why I was dreading this particular birthday.
I was having an otherwise insignificant weekday when I found out that a friend and colleague was pregnant with her first child-- a child she and her husband have worked and prayed dearly for. And while my attitude, facial expressions, and demeanor played the part of overjoyed and supportive, my heart ached in my chest.
And as soon as the moment was over, I tried to reconcile while my heart did not fall in line with the rest of my body. Why did I feel hurt or sad or what at her absolutely wonderful news; why did I lapse into reflexive fake happiness than authentic happiness?
I've been chewing on this ever since.
And it hit me yesterday- much with the help of my sister- exactly why I found myself feeling anything other than happy for my friend. And the answer is that it all comes down to the hard reality of being a woman in this world, and all of the subtle pressures that come along with that designation.
We live in a world that suggests that a woman's path should look something like this:
-birth
-school
-college
-career (very cloesely followed by)
-marriage
-children
-raising children
-empty nest
-grandchildren
-old age
-death
Have I let anything out?
The reality of the situation is, there is a natural progression of the course of a life a "typical" woman is supposed to lead, and at this point, I am far behind.
I have felt the weight of this timeline on my shoulders since I was a child. I decided early on- more out of a need to protect myself- that I would never adhere to this kind of timeline or lifestyle because I would never marry (who would've wanted to marry me? I was chubby and didn't sleep around.); except, I DID marry. But I did it much later than most of the people I know.
And here I am, a year into marriage, at the age of 30, and I am not pregnant. That has been as a result of my husband and I's choice, and not because of biology. However, as much as I know that, I still have a knee-jerk reaction of feeling inadequate or behind because I am my age and I am NOT a mother. Logically, I know this is what I have chosen; my emotions are more reticent to understand that notion.
So what am I bitching about? That I chose a path and don't like how it looks or feels by comparison to my friends and acquaintances?
Well. Yes. Exactly that. And if you're scratching your head about what the real issue is here, then you're right where I was a few days ago. And the conclusion I have come to is that the constructs of what it is to be a woman in this world is a difficult rat race, and whether you buy-in or not, it's a race you never signed up for, but one that you absolutely are in.
My mother is 62 years old, and was blessed with grandchildren last March. She was one of the last of a myriad of her friends to be graced with grandchildren. And I know my sister felt the pressure-- at the time, she was the one of us that was married. I wasn't there yet, so I was more incubated from feeling that pressure; but the pressure remained. Even at my mom's age, she was imbued with notions of where one should be at a certain point (with grown children), and she wasn't there yet. And other women in her life let her know it. Regularly. "Where are your grandchildren, Barbara?" The cycle of pressure healthily churns.
Don't get me wrong-- she didn't then, nor has she ever, pressured us to pop out kids to keep up with her friends, but it strikes me now as significant that she was still experiencing female expectancy pressure at her age...after having two children...and keeping her marriage together after 35 years. What is that?!
Does it not bother you?
It bothers me. Profoundly.
And I guess I didn't realize it until I felt inexplicably defensive about the fact that a friend I have prayed for to get pregnant, did so before me. I cannot be alone in these feelings of inadequacy. I know I'm not. But, there it is. That's the ugliness I am willing to claim: I found out she achieved something I haven't even been working towards, and I resented her for it.
So, what does that say about me? Well, maybe i am being too easy on myself, but I am more inclined to believe that it suggests women are under a ridiculous amount of pressure. We have to dress and talk and act a certain way at all times; we have to deliver life milestones on a specific timetable; we have to perform our womanly duties on a suitable standard level; it feels like the constraints on women never end.
So what in the hell is my point?
Essentially, this entire process has taught me to remind myself that even without meaning to keep up to the norms of expectancy, every woman will invariably find them self confronted with those norms at one time or another-- ignore it. Eventually, the ghosts of what you should be doing or what you should've already done will rear their ugly heads-- ignore them. You WILL find yourself behind the curve of achievement, especially (but not intentionally) as it relates to your friends-- ignore it all.
This whole experience opened my eyes to the subtle ways a woman can buy in to what or who or how she should be; I choose not...to all of it.
__________
Here is to living life ON. YOUR. OWN. TERMS.; here is to living by no timeline, feeling no pressure, and audaciously deciding 'normal' for yourself. I celebrate you in your own journey as I hope you pray for me in mine.