Growing Up

I imagine everyone has one of those moments at some point in their lives where something causes them to stop and look at their life for what it really is. Maybe they realize how far they have come from whatever situation they started with; perhaps they wonder how they ended up so far from where they had intended to be. Whether they are pleasently surprised or surprisingly disappointed, the moment is usually accompanied with the question "how on earth did I end up here?"

My moment of reality came a few weeks ago in the form of a pair of pants.

No, this isn't a story of a magical pair of pants that binds me closer to my girl friends as we all move into new adventures and learn of life and love. That story has already been written (and quite well, by the way). Mine is a story of a 30-something woman who realizes that she is not who she once was and no where close to who she wants to be.

A few weeks ago, I went to put on my favorite comfy jeans when I realized there was a hole in them. Not the trendy kind of hole in the knee that I could wear with a colorful pair of leggings and pass off as the hippest fad. No, this was a frayed hole made of frequent wearing and washings and it was in a location that is neither trendy, nor hidable. I sighed a sigh of deep regret and went back into my closet to find a different pair. Unfortuntately I realized why those jeans were so often worn: since I crossed the 30 threshhold, I located some of the weight I had always managed to avoid in the past and none of my other jeans fit me anymore.

Well, except for one. One pair of tomboy-ish, super casual, blah colored pair of blue jeans.

I hate these jeans. I have no idea how they even ended up in my closet. There is nothing feminine or "cute" about them. The only shoes that work with them are my old, worn tennis shoes. Pairing them with a sexy top and high heels would just look ridiculous. And I have no other choice at the moment.

But it soon became apparent that this was not going to be a problem for me. As I started going through my closet, looking for tops to go with my blah-ish jeans, I realized that I was having little trouble finding equally blah shirts. It seems that lately, completely without my conscious knowledge of it, I had started defaulting to the blah casualness of my invisible junior high years.

And that's when the question slapped me in the face: How did I get here??? In college, I used to wear dresses all the time. In fact, just four years ago I was constantly looked at as the "fashionable" friend. When did I lose all that? When did I decide that it was okay to tuck my beautiful heels in the dark closet and be content with one simple pair of black flats? When did that become who I am?

And then I started to notice that it extends further than my wardrobe. My daily routine consists of "go to work, go home, go to bed" and nothing exciting happens between those "big events". I don't hang out with people anymore. I don't do anything fun, active, or creative. I haven't scrapbooked in ages. My apartment is overly disorganized. And one day, I drove up to my apartment and saw a strange guy playing with a dog in the yard and found out that I've had a new neighbor for about two months now and had NO idea.

This stuff does not make me happy.

So, what to do about it? I guess I have to make changes. But changing is so hard sometimes. And I'll be honest: I don't like doing it. Ever. But it must be done sometimes.

It's time I start acting like the responsible adult that I'm supposed to be.


My first major change has been to set my jeans aside and start pulling my pretty skirts and dresses back out. Actually, that's not too hard to change my thinking about since I do hate the only pair of jeans I can fit into right now, but it is requiring me to put a little more thought and effort in my dressing habits again.

I'm also trying to start small daily routines to get my home organized and hopefully keep it that way. This is a little tricky as I have to work around two playful dogs and three other people who have different styles of "cleaning" up after themselves. But I guess small efforts are better than no efforts. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself.

And I'm getting out of the house as often as I can. I take the dogs to the park, go to the young adults ministry at church, and I joined a bible study group. I'm meeting new people and hoping that will help me to find even more opportunities to get out.

There's even a thought in my mind that it might be nice to start cooking my own dinner at home once in awhile. But I don't want to get too crazy too soon. Baby steps.

Baby steps to the grown up life.