I knew it was bound to happen eventually.
I was just hoping that it would happen closer to 35 and further away from 29.
I didn’t know right away that it had happened.
The signs were small at first…
and easy to ignore.
But the evidence is mounting and as I sit here writing this post and shaking my head, I know that I need to come to terms with it.
I have passed into a new stage of life and, at 29 years of age, have found myself kicked out of young adulthood.
Here’s a look at the then and now (aka the evidence):
Then…”I love your shirt, Mrs. Torres! Too cute!”
Now…”Your jacket is nice, Mrs. Torres. I think my mom has one just like it!” (I even had this compliment with grandma inserted instead of mom. Fail.)
Then…College students seemed fairly mature and a whole lot more interesting than most of the adults that I knew.
Now…College students are babies. (I want to take care of them and tell them to enjoy it and to not be stupid and to remember that that they still have so much growing up to do.)
Then…”Oh man, Mrs. Torres. I bet you partied all weekend looooong! Was it crazy?” (If only they knew that Mr. Torres and I regularly go to bed EARLY on the weekends:) I guess I just give off a fun vibe!)
Now…”Whoa! Mrs. Torres! What are you doing at the mall? You come here?!?” (You leave the classroom? You have a life?)
Then…Meeting my students’ parents was like meeting with my parents’ friends. The mothers were motherly and the fathers were fatherly.
Now…The parents are definitely closer to my age than to my parents’ age and I have even met a few parents who are younger than I am.
Then…If I was feeling sick or my back hurt or I had twisted an ankle, I would run on it and feel great after a couple of miles.
Now…I injured my knee two months ago and it still has not healed enough that I can run on it. (Nothing heals quickly anymore and I literally almost passed out from the pain when the shopping cart at Wal-Mart got rammed into my achilles. Feeling. So. Old.)
Then…I could round my age down to twenty and even when I couldn’t, I regularly had people guessing my age to be somewhere around there.
Now…I was asked by one of my semi-recent friends how old I was and when I replied 29 she said, “Wow. At least you’re not 30!”
Here’s to one more year…err, ten more months…of at least not being 30!