So this year I turn 30. And as much as I think it does not bother me, I realise it does.
1. Growing up
Back in January I bumped a car in front of me. In that instant right after I hit the car, there I was, shocked in my seat that I had actually misjudged the combination of (distance ahead between the car in front and mine+my speed+awareness of traffic in front of me) and braked too late. A second later, there was an overwhelming gratitude that my passengers and I were unhurt (but what about the people in the car I hit?). As that thought was passing I was already stepping out of the car, annoyed at myself for making such an unnecessary mistake – a mistake that caused a queue of traffic behind me. As I walked to the other driver, who also had stepped out of his car, I was filled with anguish that I had inconvenienced him as well. We talked, I apologised, exchanged details and then as we drove off, I panicked at how much it was going to cost me.
I was stoic through the whole experience. And on the way to the car workshop, my companions asked a barrage of (practical) questions such as What does my insurance policy cover? Do I know an agent I can call?
I was only given the chance to absorb the whole shock of the incident at least two hours later – after I have sent the car to the workshop, given the insurance company a call, reported the incident to assessors, called for a cab and transported myself to a cafe for a drink.
It was then I realised I was on my own. No daddy to step in to talk to the driver and call the insurance company. No mummy to give me a glass of water to calm me from the shock. I had to instantly take action and responsibility for a mistake I made. I could only wish I could apologise to the driver for hitting him, apologise to everyone on the expressway for stalling their afternoon, and then go home and seek the comfort of my mother before asking their advice on what to do next. But sadly I no longer had that luxury!
In the days that ensued, I had to deal with the steps of ‘reconciling my driving mistake’ (ie. claiming insurance). I have no interest in terms such as ”excess amount” and “no claim discount”, but I had no choice – and I learnt that they are dreadful and agonising.
The experience made me feel like Adulthood was just sitting in a far corner, watching me screw up and sniggering at how I get myself out of the mess I made all by myself.
When did “growing up” end? How dare Adulthood take me without parental consent?
If “growing up” has ended for me, is “ageing” the term I should use now for all of my years going by?
I start to think about my life graph. The graph inclines rapidly and excitedly for the first 30 years of my life, and then what? How do I continue that curve? In terms of life events to look forward to, what else is there for me to give me reason to continue that incline? Or do I draw a straight line to indicate status quo? Or worse, do I have to draw a decline? (Really?)
In other words, I worry that I am at the cusp of my life. That in years to come life does not get any more exciting for me than this. I know motherhood is definitely a life event to look forward to, but will I be lucky enough to have the privilege? I pray I do. But the grandness of motherhood is, I think, and I want to believe, that I will dedicate every ounce of myself to my child/children. And when I readily do that, what will become of me? The essence of me. Will I still live for myself? Or will I live for my child/children? Will I be able to pick up the bass? (so that I can drop the bass, ‘mon) Will it be selfish then if I were to invest in myself – for instance, giving a shot at owning and running a cafe (a business that is all too likely to fail) instead of saving for my children’s university fund?
So you see, turning 30 is affecting me more than I care to admit. Maybe I have stated it in my previous blog entry, but I must reiterate that I’m not done with youth yet. I feel like I’m still 24 on the inside, and there is still more “growing up” to look forward to, rather than “ageing”.
It’s like, “growing up” is a phase of discovery, filled with ‘first time’ experiences like getting your first bonus (and getting excited about it), buying your first luxury item (and getting excited about it), producing a really awesome set of powerpoint slides (and getting excited about it)… basically getting a profuse sense of elation at all the firsts in life.
“Ageing”, however, has a sickening “you should have already known it” sneer about it. Finding a great price deal for a set of tyres for the car? Peeled an onion without crying? Made an informed decision about the choice of light bulbs (fluorescent vs LED) to use in the home? SO WHAT? Ugh, so dampening!
I know this will loom over me, so I guess I’ll just have to face it and deal with it as days go by…
On a happier note, I have decided that I want to get my blogging game back on. Despite the rarity of me writing nowadays, blogging gives me a pleasure no other hobby can. So watch out for more depressing posts on my post-quarter-life crisis!