Warning: There is a high possibility that my friends or people around my age (30y.o.) will get annoyed by this post.
I consider it a sign of maturity (ha!), this proliferation of baby pictures and videos on social media. Never have I seen so many pictures of babies, both nieces/nephews and godchildren, on my Facebook and Instagram feeds. It is insanely adorable and annoying at the same time.
On one hand, the photos of the little cherubs are more than enough to bring a smile to this otherwise stressed face, for the giggles and and toothless smiles and the Michelin Man-like limbs are just full of Cute. On the other hand, the baby pictures are a glaring in-your-face reminder of my… oldness. And of other things I’d rather not announce on a public blog.
Sometimes I think I’ve gotten over this “old” issue. I look at my friends’ haggard faces because they haven’t gotten any sleep and think, “HA! I still look like a college kid on my best days. On my worst days, I just look like I’m in my mid-20s.” And I can STILL sleep without interruption because I’m not breastfeeding. And I can watch movies in the theater without having to worry about whether it’s appropriate for my kid or not.
But I cannot for the life of me explain why whenever a friend or batchmate posts his/her baby or wedding picture or something similar I get antsy. I’ve got a few theories about this.
Number 1. The baby pics, wedding pictures, pre-nup pictures annoy the hell out of me because I am reminded of how I don’t have those things. No, I am not in a relationship. No, I’m not going to have babies anytime soon. Stop dropping hints, Ma.
No. I don’t feel. Any pressure. Right now.
Number 2. People subconsciously look down at you (it’s just the briefest of glances, but it’s there) when the fact that you’re single (STILL) at 30 sinks in. People judge. I would know. I’m a judger. Sometimes of the worst kind. (Don’t worry; I’m working on getting rid of it.)
Number 3. People tease you relentlessly about your age. Right now, I would like to apologize to Cec for cracking and laughing at all the age jokes thrown at her before. Now, I can relate.
I confess to being guilty of being brainwashed by the media and society and tradition that having and taking care of a family is the end-all and be-all of women. Inasmuch as I’d like to claim modern thinking and beliefs, that women CAN be happy and fulfilled without a family, I really am still an old soul. Family is still important.
Why my brain and heart are warring over this desire (or lack thereof) of a beau and, consequently, a husband and my own family I probably shall never understand.
I blame Doctor Who for this melancholic midnight thoughts.
“I am alone.”
“My face has all these lines, but I didn’t do the frowning.”