Day 54 - The Future Me

If the younger me met the present me, she'd laugh. She'd say, "There must be some kind of mistake." She'd hoist her backpack on her shoulders and head purposefully in the direction of trekking the world, hoping to affect it along the way. My young independent self would be appalled by my girly dependence. She'd slap me silly.

I cry when I watch weddings on television now, remembering our pretty day. When I see babies in the store, I ask about them and when I coo and ahh over your baby, it's 100% genuine. My biological clock isn't ticking anymore; it's more like a gong.

I don't even know me anymore. It's like the estrogen has seized my entire being, spreading like a disease. Honest to goodness, I want to nurture things. I want to make plants grow. I want to feed and pet my cats. I want my husband to eat well, I want to bring him eggs and coffee in the morning. These things ACTUALLY make me feel good. And happy. It's f*&#ing weird.

Trust me, it wasn't always like this. The younger me wasn't even sure she wanted children--she aimed to be 'the rad Aunt.' She thought marriage was a torture chamber, death by slow suffocation. She laughed off the conventional stereotype of the doting wife and mother. Who needs it, she thought, that's the brainwash for the weak. That's no way to LIVE.

But now, it's like every fiber of my being is soaked with estrogen. I feel--brace yourself--connected to the calm and loving energy of the archetypal woman. I'm so drunk with estrogen that the ancient ritual of procreating feels like it just might be the most important thing in the world.

I wonder if after having your little one (after these lady hormones wear off) it's kind of like a hangover. You wake up later, all fuzzy and disheveled, and think, "oh my, what have I done?"

I kid, I kid. But seriously, I would be downright dishonest with myself if I tried to emulate the young me. It's just not true for me anymore. But I love her. And sometimes I miss her. If I saw her on the street, I'd give her a big warm hug and offer her fresh fruit for her journey. I'd laugh with her and genuinely wish her well.

But as for me...I'm happy here at home. Growing gardens of flowers and drinking green tea with the wise old future me.