This is something I don’t usually talk about. Today, April 11th is the 28th anniversary of my moms death. I am 38 which is the age my mom was when she died. Talking about this feels icky to me because I’m not into people feeling bad for me and I’ve always prided myself on being strong and not feeling like I want to share things like this because I don’t want people to hear it and give me sympathy. Even typing that word made me gag a little.
That being said the age “38” has been looming over my head all these years. As a kid I always felt like I was the only person in the world to lose a parent. I didn’t know anyone else that had happened to. Now that I’ve published my book it’s something a lot of people want to ask me about or share that they had also lost a parent as a child. Since speaking to other people who have lost parents at a young age they all have said similar things about a fear of “the age.” It doesn’t matter how your parent passed away, so many people who were like me and had a parent die when they were a kid feel like they won’t live beyond the age their parent was when they died. I know that sounds crazy and seems silly to those of you that haven’t lost a parent or have lost a parent as an adult but it’s this gnawing feeling in the back of my mind reminding me every once in a while “when you turn 38….you’re a goner”.
So I turned 38 in September and since then the last 7 months have been such a roller coaster of amazing, chaotic and sometimes kind of crappy moments for me. I had a small mental breakdown, I decided I was going to finally publish my book but then I ran into SO many obstacles with the self publishing process, I made TONS of mistakes and stressed myself out over crap that didn’t matter, I went on a few different podcasts which was a big challenge for me to speak about myself and be recorded doing it, I’ve gotten to be interviewed and filmed about my book by PR firms…also not something I had ever thought i’d do in my whole life, I got my mental breakdown straightened out with cognitive behavioral therapy (what’s up Diane Magee<— my therapist), learned (hopefully) a lot of life lessons along the way, but best of all, FINALLY after three long years, I published my mother-flipping book and made people LOL while they read it. I did things I never thought I’d do, I hate speaking about myself so much (I literally made a HOLE in my thumb while recording one of the podcasts I did from my nervous fidgeting) I want to barf every time I self-promote myself but obviously I do it so my hard work wasn’t in vain, even though it makes me want to run and hide. But after all those things and you know what happened in my 38th year?:
I. Didn’t. Die. I’m still here. (Knock on wood though bc I still have 5 months left of 38) So my point of this whole long blog post is that this is the year I dreaded for most of my life and now that it’s here it actually has so far been one of the most amazing and life changing years of my life.
I’m thankful to be over the hump of this irrational fear of “the age” and to those of you that have the same fear as I did, if you haven’t gotten to your “age” yet… I promise that it’s going to be better than you think! It might even be the most awesome year of your life.