I'm no longer a spring chicken as they say. All the signs are there that time, is in fact, marching onward and from all the evidence it's marching right over my backside. I'm not a kid anymore, but am I growing up too much?
I wasn't exactly wild in my youth, but I had my moments. Even 5 years ago I didn't bat an eyelash at marching down the aisle in a red and silver wedding dress with crayola red hair.
So why now am I kinda embarrassed about all the blue not washing out of my hair from Halloween? Why am I looking at my wardrobe and worrying if it looks too 'out there'?
My family says it's great I'm finally growing up, but is that really what I'm doing? Or am I, as a lot of my friends would say, conforming?
Mid thirties housewife is a strange thing for an outsider to be. I spent the majority of the past 3 decades trying to find ways to make not being accepted a personal choice. Now I don't know what I'm trying to do.
Is this what they mean when they talk about midlife crises?