I am 26-years old, going on 27 this November. I say that with pride. But lately, when I reveal my age to some, I say it with hesitation. Sometimes I get a feeling from the person asking that they ask merely to date me, figure me out, and perhaps understand me. All based on a set of numbers that I guess is supposed to define me. I try not to reveal my age, but if I have an okay feeling with someone, I might say it, but only if they ask.
I don’t like asking someone how old they are, because I’m usually wrong if I say it before they do. I may assume older but can be wrong, but I assumed because of their maturity. And vice versa. About 90% of the time, I really think age is just a number. Looks also have a lot to do with it. Believe me… I know… If you were to guess my age without seeing it above, what would you guess? I usually get 21 or 23. Sometime I still get 18. But hardly 26 or even 25. Never have I heard 27 or above.
Now why am I venting about this?
I’ve been at my new job for 4 weeks now and many people are surprised I’m an RN, because I don’t look old enough. It’s not the patients/donors that irk me when they say it; it’s my peers and coworkers. Many people don’t mean any harm by it. But when you hear it repeatedly… It gets to you. Today, for example, a coworker (probably my age) said I looked like a schoolgirl. *Insert annoyed face emoji*
What I mentioned in my first paragraph about a feeling I get from people, it’s because I feel as if they can then use my age almost against me. And they want to. Someone will ask me.. who sings this song? If it’s from the 80s or 70s, because I obviously don’t know seeing as how I wasn’t born then.
Or perhaps I’ll say I’m sore from a workout or I didn’t sleep good the night before (something that occurs too often) and someone even just a few years older than me will say, “oh sweetie, you’re still young. You don’t even know yet.” Oh, you’re right. OBVIOUSly I don’t. ‘scuse me!
Maybe it’s because I’m the youngest by a few years, while my siblings are all one year apart, but to this day I a little annoyed when I hear, “you’re too young for…” even if it’s not directed to me. I heard that a lot growing up and now I hear “Oh, you’re probably too young to know about this or understand that…”
Take me as I am and not for my age. Damnit. I have also realized that in my short 26 years, I have more life experience than some people nearly twice my age. Just saying. I have seen more, done more, and experienced more than a lot of people may realize or ever know. I simply want validation for what I think and say based on my maturity and not my age. While this post itself may be a bit immature in it’s nature, I hope you understand why I am writing it. It’s hard being in a professional career where you’re looked up at with respect and some of it is taken away when they think you’re 21.
Now that’s just the age thing I’m annoyed with. I’m not done yet.
I’m happily married to a wonderful firefighter, a firefighter who loves his job and is damn good at it, too. Many of you may know this, but for those of you that don’t, when he is called to a fire he can be gone for weeks on end. The first week we were married, he got called away and was gone for two weeks. The next fire he went to, less than a month after his return, he was away again for 3 weeks.
So while he’s away fighting fires exhausting himself, does that mean I’m home twiddling my thumbs or wringing my hands in severe stress over his safety? In one word, no.
Am I concerned? Absolutely. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to freak myself out over it. I fully trust him and his capabilities as a firefighter. I trust his intuition as well as his captains and chief’s in charge. It’s not easy, but I do my best, as does he.
Now I’m mentioning this because when he’s away for either his three-day shifts or away at fires for an unknown amount of time, some people like to ask me questions and refer to me as two things: single and my absolute favorite… a widow. Because he’s away, gone… and I’m alone. All. By. Myself.
And by favorite, I mean I internally cringe with a touch of anger and sadness when I hear the word “widow.” To me, it’s just wrong on many levels. For one, I am in NO freaking way a widow, nor single for that matter! Secondly, it downplays what a widow is. Thirdly, if he were in the military and deployed overseas, would these same people refer to me as a widow? Probably not.
I am one of many wives who wonder how our husbands are doing, how exhausted each one must be, as well as thirsty, hungry, tired, and hopefully missing their wives. When he’s away, I never expect him to reply to text, call every night, or send me a photo here and there. I expect him to rest when he can, drink and eat when he can, and hopefully take a shower here and there 😉 Then call me. Ha. But really, if he doesn’t, it’s fine. I frequently check the status of whatever fire he is at and get an idea of any danger he might be in. But I will say he is very good at calling and texting when he can.
So. Those are two things I have wanted to vent about for a while now. I hope you understand my thoughts and I also apologize for this not being beauty related. I’ll try to work on that soon. But oh, hey! School and work at currently consuming my life.
That is all.
Happier things shall be written soon. I hope. I think. Maybe?