You know, I didn’t think that at 31 I’d still be asking that question. But then again, don’t the 30s seem like the perfect time in life to actually answer that question? I think during your twenties you’re still too idealistic to answer that question realistically. I think that the 20s are also a time of exploring your limits. I’m coming to learn that the 30s seem to involve understanding that I am able to set the limits. At least as far as what I allow other people to do to me, and whether or not I allow others to get to me.
I feel like the past few months in particular have been groundbreaking for me internally. I’ve discovered that there are things that no longer bother me, or even cross my mind at all. And then there are things I thought I had “outgrown” which seemed more important to me than I thought. Things I had thought were a phase years ago.
Let’s face it, folks. Our personalities are always in flux, especially as young people. I feel like the 30s are my time that I’m sorting myself out. Like I’m taking everything I learned in my teens and twenties out and am sorting through it all. Sometimes I’m completely surprised with the kind of stuff that seems to kind of spill out.
There are some constants though. I’m definitely still a reader, which is a good thing, otherwise the name of this blog would be very awkward indeed. Also, I’m not sure what I would do if I had to rethink the part of my identity that I would label “book nerd”. Being a “book nerd” has made me some excellent friends and probably catalyzed all the other parts of my personality.
I find the one aspect of myself I think about a lot is my belief and faith in things greater than myself. Which I think should be saved for another blog entry, since that one is so big that I’m still discovering things about myself.
I also find that my identity as a writer is being dredged up and rethought, reworked.
I find that a lot of things I took for granted about myself as a teenager, the things that I kind of “forgot” or abandoned as a college student, are all rushing back. Somehow, sometimes, I feel like I was a much truer version of myself in my early teens than in my twenties. Or even the person I was in my late teens. Which I think makes sense, because during my early teens I didn’t have very many outside influences. I formed my own opinion of who I was during those early years, and stuck with it, because there was no one to tell me those things were stupid. In fact, during those years I always found someone who felt the same way I did.
Is it weird to be ready to go back to that? I feel like there’s a lot of me to rediscover. A lot of me that I hid that I’m ready to uncover, so that I can move on and feel like. . . well, myself.