Pretty in the Face

228787_6211541513_3503_n*This is early 20 something Jenny, taking a shot of tequila like a dum dum, 30 something Jenny doesn’t do this kind of stuff anymore. But I’m pretty sure looking at this picture, I still had bad hair then and also, not so great fashion choices.

Last year I turned 30. And it was no fucking picnic, let me tell you. Although I tried desperately to wear a brave face, inside, everything was crumbling. Josh and I celebrate birthdays within two weeks of each other so we gathered our Maine friends in Portland and our Massachusetts friends in Boston and had two really wonderful parties to celebrate getting old as shit. It helped, it did, really. Being around the people I love and cherish just makes me feel whole. But, I still couldn’t shake the fact that this birthday was earth shattering to me. I was no longer in my twenties. Which means, my boobs will soon be sitting on my dinner plate, I now have to contemplate Botox and my two gray hairs officially send me into melt down mode. To me, your 20’s are when you are the prettiest. You have beautiful skin, wide eyes, great hair, everything on your body is where it’s supposed to be (like, you don’t have a thutt. If you don’t know what this is, well, then you haven’t experienced it yet and I hate you) and you just have like, this vibe. This great, twenty something vibe. Let’s be honest, I may have never had that damn vibe but in my head I would pretend. I am 30 years old and I have an 8 & 3 year old, both of which are about to have their next birthday. You do the math. I guess my twenties were for children. So maybe I was never pretty. Or fun. Or vibed anything. But I do know I did tequila shots and I surfed a lot and made bad choices: so I guess that counts for something.

I bet it would help if I stopped wearing running pants. But, I can’t seem to help myself.

Saturday, my running group had a party to celebrate the temporary return of a Roaster who had moved away and of course, to celebrate all the great accomplishments we have all had. We all ran through a relentless winter. I mean: RELENTLESS. I think we deserve a kabob and twelve slices of cake. Anyways, I was tired and I felt like something that had just been scraped off the side of the road but I wanted to not look like that (FOR ONCE) so I took a shower and put on a dress. I gave it my best to look like I cared even though I just wanted to roll on the floor and go to sleep in a corner. Everyone complemented me on my attire, they told me I cleaned up well. It looked genuine and it was genuine because these are all great people. But I still couldn’t shake that a) I didn’t feel quite like myself and b) I didn’t feel attractive, even in my white Newport J.Crew dress with sassy yellow wedges. Which is strange because if you were to ask me about ANY of the ladies in my running group, I would tell you that they were beautiful. Oh my goodness, they are gorgeous, all of them. They range in age, size and shape but I see the beauty in all of them. And some of them, I simply marvel in. It’s incredible.

So why can’t I find that in myself?

Why do I feel so fucking awkward all the time?

I don’t think it helps that the few times a year I see my brother, he lands just long enough to tell me that I’m still just “a little bit fat” even though I am the smallest I have been in years. This is how I’m built, I’m 175-178 lbs. and that most likely, will never change. I’m a runner and I happen to have the legs to prove it. Some of my runner friends have very skinny legs, I have never had that. And I’m not willing to give up meatballs to get it.

Anyways, they say your 30’s is the time to shine for a woman. Am I being impatient? Are we talking like 32-34 or near 40, in which case, I might just throw myself off the highest bridge. I would like to know specifics, when do women start feeling like they belong in their own bodies? And does the dreaded “thutt” ever go away?

I’m obviously feeling very sorry for myself today. Must have something to do with those 10 mini Kit-Kat’s I ate last night.

I will sit here and continue to eat my salad which is good, but I’m getting sick of salads. I hope you are all enjoying this lovely weather and of course, feeling just a tad pretty in the face.

 

4 thoughts on “Pretty in the Face

  1. It’s not your body that needs attention, you have to love the skin you’re in. Confidence is something that must be worked on. Be happy about all the successes your body has given you!

    I also turned 30 last year and I was glad to be finally out of my 20’s. I always thought I could finally be taken seriously from 30 onwards, I’m not longer a girl but a woman. I feel more sure about myself than I ever was. I have less and less time for things I don’t want to do. I feel that I don’t have to make excuses anymore. Just say “No” to things you don’t want in your life.

    1. I love that, just say “no,” I have trouble with that and perhaps I’d feel more whole, more calm, if I took more time for self discovery. Whatever the case, thanks for reminding me that sometimes you just have to be glad for what you’ve got. My body has come a long way since the birth of my 2 children and really, it can only go up from here. 🙂

  2. You’re a baby! You’re still germinating. Don’t worry. You will hit your stride. When I turned 30, my husband’s aged aunt gave me an Hermès scarf because as she put it, “All women of a certain age need one.” I felt ancient and unattractive and unsuccessful. While I do miss the waistline I had at 26, I do not miss the life that came accompanied it. Keep running. Keep eating meatballs. Keep writing. You will emerge from this, when you’re ready, a beautiful butterfly.

    1. I always love your words of wisdom. Seriously, they are like little gems. I don’t own a Hermes scarf, perhaps I should get on that. I kind of feel that way about Manolo’s. Anyways, I know it’s still early and I am still “young” so I need to chill the fuck out and provide myself some time. Chugging along is part of life, that’s how we get to the prize. 🙂

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