![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rmI've been doing a lot of thinking lately of the sort of stuff I believe doesn't bear much thinking about, certainly not at my age -- my age being one of the things I've been thinking about.
I'm about to turn 32, and historically I've never cared much about my age, other than wanting to be older, almost always. 30 was an immense relief, more than anything else. At thirty, a woman is taken seriously. But maybe at 32 people start asking about why a woman isn't married.
Now, this particular train of thought could be atrtitubable to any number of things, from the so-called biological clock, to the recent marriages of friends and companions, to the current entertainments of choice in my weird little universe. But what is most important, I suppose, is that I have no idea what the origin of the preoccupation is, just that it's been creeping about me for well over a month, and seems to have become particularly heavy and forceful in the last ten days.
A lot of it has to do with being an adult and having no way to prove it. And resenting being an adult who is apparently expected to prove it because her ring finger, womb or tax return doesn't. And trying to figure out if it's a compliment or not when people, especially those younger than me, say that I don't seem the age I am. Maybe no one ever does, maybe we always think the people older than us are somehow boring and given up and so we're suprised when we find out otherwise -- I'm not sure.
Anyway, I am feeling unkeen about this 32 business, as it plants me even more firmly in the no-man's land of useless ages for an actress to be. But that rant slides into gender issues, and even I find those boring after a while.
When I was younger, there were things I wanted because they were clear easy markers of success. Five sons (Julien, Gabriel, Daniel, Michael and Adrien -- and yes, they would have been beaten up at school, now leave it alone, most good people are). Never tell me I've not been a prideful and old-fashioned woman, because I was once, so relentlessly, it's hard to comprehend. And I suppose, even if I've decided it's all inconvenient and that the last thing I want in this life is to merely be someone's dear little helper -- that it's impossible for me to imagine the obverse -- which is that I get a dear little helper. Hello, I'd like a dear little helper please! But no, being old-fashioned in the way that I am (which has to do with little more than my education, my family and the world I grew up in -- it's hardly any sort of moral, aesthetic or philosophical choice -- in fact I'd like nothing more than to be rid of it) I see my choices as being mostly solitary, or being the paler star. Funny that.
As much as I love my alone time, and it's well rooted in me from being an only child, I'm not as bloodless as I can seem (and I know I don't seem it here mostly, but I can exist pretty much without humans in my life at all 95% of the time), but I've decided it's so necessary -- both out of my own weaknesses (I know my impulses in relationships, I know how horrid they are for all concerned, etc.) and my need not to be hampered by distractions -- that here I am, doing this thirties thing and wondering if at some point I will be asked, "why did you never marry?" and I will say, "because it was inconvenient" and everyone will think me witty and imperious as I think all sorts of dark things about myself or mutter under my breath in bitterness long grown boring "for them."
And this doesn't even begin, really, to touch on the subject of babies.
Maybe I just need a week without any historical fiction, costume drams or A&E miniseries. Maybe I need to go on a date and remember why I find the process loathesome -- for one, it shouldn't be a process.
Because I have amazing self-control, and an amazing ability to occupy, distract and drive myself. But at the end of the week (my character is too much what it is to say the end of the day) I really want someone to look at me with beaming wonderment, not because I'm so damn special, but because my presence in their life seems too fanciful and lovely to be true.
Yup. Less with the costume dramas.
*sigh*
In other news, bought riding pants, start stage combat classes in ten days, have a contract in hand finally for the short story that's gotten into an anthology, and in general seem to be plugging along in my absurd little life, grim weather, mournful disposition and excessively long sentences quite aside.
I'm about to turn 32, and historically I've never cared much about my age, other than wanting to be older, almost always. 30 was an immense relief, more than anything else. At thirty, a woman is taken seriously. But maybe at 32 people start asking about why a woman isn't married.
Now, this particular train of thought could be atrtitubable to any number of things, from the so-called biological clock, to the recent marriages of friends and companions, to the current entertainments of choice in my weird little universe. But what is most important, I suppose, is that I have no idea what the origin of the preoccupation is, just that it's been creeping about me for well over a month, and seems to have become particularly heavy and forceful in the last ten days.
A lot of it has to do with being an adult and having no way to prove it. And resenting being an adult who is apparently expected to prove it because her ring finger, womb or tax return doesn't. And trying to figure out if it's a compliment or not when people, especially those younger than me, say that I don't seem the age I am. Maybe no one ever does, maybe we always think the people older than us are somehow boring and given up and so we're suprised when we find out otherwise -- I'm not sure.
Anyway, I am feeling unkeen about this 32 business, as it plants me even more firmly in the no-man's land of useless ages for an actress to be. But that rant slides into gender issues, and even I find those boring after a while.
When I was younger, there were things I wanted because they were clear easy markers of success. Five sons (Julien, Gabriel, Daniel, Michael and Adrien -- and yes, they would have been beaten up at school, now leave it alone, most good people are). Never tell me I've not been a prideful and old-fashioned woman, because I was once, so relentlessly, it's hard to comprehend. And I suppose, even if I've decided it's all inconvenient and that the last thing I want in this life is to merely be someone's dear little helper -- that it's impossible for me to imagine the obverse -- which is that I get a dear little helper. Hello, I'd like a dear little helper please! But no, being old-fashioned in the way that I am (which has to do with little more than my education, my family and the world I grew up in -- it's hardly any sort of moral, aesthetic or philosophical choice -- in fact I'd like nothing more than to be rid of it) I see my choices as being mostly solitary, or being the paler star. Funny that.
As much as I love my alone time, and it's well rooted in me from being an only child, I'm not as bloodless as I can seem (and I know I don't seem it here mostly, but I can exist pretty much without humans in my life at all 95% of the time), but I've decided it's so necessary -- both out of my own weaknesses (I know my impulses in relationships, I know how horrid they are for all concerned, etc.) and my need not to be hampered by distractions -- that here I am, doing this thirties thing and wondering if at some point I will be asked, "why did you never marry?" and I will say, "because it was inconvenient" and everyone will think me witty and imperious as I think all sorts of dark things about myself or mutter under my breath in bitterness long grown boring "for them."
And this doesn't even begin, really, to touch on the subject of babies.
Maybe I just need a week without any historical fiction, costume drams or A&E miniseries. Maybe I need to go on a date and remember why I find the process loathesome -- for one, it shouldn't be a process.
Because I have amazing self-control, and an amazing ability to occupy, distract and drive myself. But at the end of the week (my character is too much what it is to say the end of the day) I really want someone to look at me with beaming wonderment, not because I'm so damn special, but because my presence in their life seems too fanciful and lovely to be true.
Yup. Less with the costume dramas.
*sigh*
In other news, bought riding pants, start stage combat classes in ten days, have a contract in hand finally for the short story that's gotten into an anthology, and in general seem to be plugging along in my absurd little life, grim weather, mournful disposition and excessively long sentences quite aside.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 07:45 am (UTC)Oh, do I understand your concerns about getting asked why aren't you married etc etc---my parents give me that quite a lot. But at least I am fortunate in that I'm in a profession where 32, even as a woman, is still considered quite young. (Nor is the unmarried-woman-in-her-30s thing considered all that weird or even nonadult, at least within my cohort.) I don't know how you do it sometimes.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 03:00 pm (UTC)I'm 32, can't we phrase that another way?????
Certainly being unmarried at 32 isn't a big deal here in NYC, but this is considered the time to do something about it, and it's like... I can't make finding a relationship other people approve of homework. I just can't. I think I am also reacting to the fact that most of the actorly people I know are relentlessly always in relationships.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 03:56 pm (UTC)Again, so strange, the contrast in our worlds. Though I myself am upset about the current limbo status with my maybe-but-maybe-not-anymore boyfriend, all my peers are saying "Good thing you're not in a relationship! Now you can *really* shoot for a good job without anyone holding you back!" All my cries of "But I really *liked* this relationship" go less heard.
I think I am also reacting to the fact that most of the actorly people I know are relentlessly always in relationships.
I can see that. Whereas with the other lawyers that I know, regardless of whether they're single or in a relationship, it usually seems to play such a small role in our daily interactions that it doesn't matter.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 08:04 am (UTC)When I step back and look at my life, I realize that I have an embarrassment of riches. I have three boys, all of whom love me dearly and would do almost anything for me, and I didn't have to go through morning sickness, a couple months of bloating, and then a couple hours of labor. Sure, my boys are two horses and a dog; that doesn't make them any less my boys. :) The only downside is that I'm essentially a single mother working two full-time jobs to support my family: the regular day-job, 5 days a week working with Banker (my younger horse), trying to make sure all my fur-children get enough love. It's exhausting, but worth it -- and I don't have to worry about college tuition!
Sure, it'd be nice to have a husband and a two-legger family; my dog's terrible in the kitchen and the horses just can't do dishes at all. :) But if it happens, it happens; if it doesn't, oh well at least I've lived my life with my choices, and at the end of the week I am happy.
*hugs* Happy b-day, early; make it a big one, have a party. :D
no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 09:25 am (UTC)As to birthdays, it's not quite the same with boys as it is with girls, but oh my, there are ironies. And yet, there is that youthfulism that still afllicts me.
I am 38, and nobody believes it except my mother and those who've known me for a long time. I am accused of having a painting in my attic. I can easily pass for 27. This results in everyone telling me that I am young, and yet I am often older than those people. As it stands, age as only made me more handsome. I was the awkward geek in school, and now I'm darned cute and quite the catch! Oh, such ironies. But there's gray in my beard now, and more to come.
People comment that I don't act my age. How old am I supposed to act? I took my cue from a wonderful nun, who was in her 70's, and still bouncy and chipper and loved joking around. If a life like that is allowable for a 70 year old nun, then I'm in a world of good.
Mom wants me to get married. Before
I guess this is to say: you are where you are. Where else are you supposed to be? Would you be happy there?
You will be beautiful when you are old.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 09:34 am (UTC)More cogent response later, I just wanted to say this while I was feeling witty.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 03:02 pm (UTC)Anyway, you're so right about the boy girl differences here. I am all about being distinguised, but apparently girls don't get to be distinguished... it seems eccentric is my best bet. Aie.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 08:13 pm (UTC)Really, now that I reread my bio, I don't think I want to start off with saying I'm a govie. That makes it seems like the most important thing that I do, and that is wrong. Mind you, the NIH (National Institutes of Health) is a great place to work for. The people I support really ARE working on cures for cancer, but that in no way tells you about me.
I think I'm not one of those people you can learn about by asking "what do you do and what do you like." I'm a person who you should ask, "What have you chosen for your life and why?" That would tell a great deal more about me.
Why haven't I thought to ask that of myself before?
no subject
Date: 2004-09-17 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 11:42 am (UTC)Well, you know I will be in town next month. Steak Frites and reality check ? If anything, 10 minutes of discussing relationships with me usually makes people never want one again. (j/k)
for one, it shouldn't be a process.
And how.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 03:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 06:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 12:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 03:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-09 04:18 pm (UTC)a year ago I was 38. Single, never married, my only serious relationships could be counted on one hand...if you allow a loose definition of serious to go with it. Still rent an apartment and have absolutely no signs of putting down roots anywhere.
I don't get asked by my immediate family those kinds of questions, but I do from aunts and uncles. "Anybody special in your life?" Well, yeah, quite a few in fact. However they mean it in the context of are we going to be hearing the peal of wedding bells anytime soon?
I guess not.
Now I'm staring at 40 on my next birthday, and I'm in the same spot. No marriage prospects, no relationship (serious or other) to speak of, still rent. But I do have a couple of retirement accounts going for me...which is nice.
But I don't feel 'almost 40'...I don't feel 20 anymore either, but I feel very much somewhere in-between...like as if things stopped in my mid-20's for all my faculties except my body.
I don't worry about it a lot, either, it's just I never really thought about it much before. If I had any advice to offer, I wouldn't worry about it. Might think about it a time or two, and remember that while others might have followed more closely to the 'expected' timeline of things, you have the benefit of doing precisely what you want to be doing, rather than something you feel you have to do.
I don't think there are many of us out there who can count ourselves in that number as well as you can. You have a lot to be proud of.
And...a-men to how it shouldn't be a process.