a failed attempt at a post, as it were

[floatingleaf]

As some of you kind readers may know (especially the ones who just wished me a happy birthday), I have officially joined the ranks of the middle-aged.:/ I feel... very strange. Not sure how much I identify with the phrase "mature woman", which would be my correct description at this point. What does "mature" really mean? Does it mean you have it all figured out - or rather, if you're still clueless, better keep it to yourself, because it's not socially acceptable to be clueless at your age?

I seem, to myself at least, so young and inexperienced in some ways - while, at the same time, so old and disillusioned in others. It's very confusing. The frightened little girl is still very much in charge of my emotions; while the cynical, aging woman takes over the outward appearance. What a weird combination.

And now I have totally lost the thread of those weighty philosophical speculations, because I decided to "celebrate" (or perhaps mourn) by having a glass of wine, and the very mildly alcoholic contents of said glass are making me all sleepy and incapable of complicated thought processes. There's a sofa bed a few feet away from where I am sitting, and it looks extremely inviting right now. And yeah, I know it's not even 11 p.m. on a Saturday night. Pathetic.:/

Apparently, this is what happens when you get to be my age. *snort*

Comments

[floatingleaf.livejournal.com]

I've come to the conclusion that the only sure sign of growing up is the gradual understanding that growing up doesn't bring the stability and security you thought it would when you were a child or a teenager.

Exactly. I think I'm still having trouble coping with that. *sigh*

Maybe maturing is essentially about letting go of the notions we used to have about it.

Maybe. It's an interesting perspective on it, anyway.;)

Anyway, happy birthday! :)

Thank you! :)