I turned thirty this last month, and while I am not bothered by being thirty, it has made me reevaluate my life.
I feel like I have been sleepwalking for the last six or seven years, and woke up just after my birthday to realize that my life looks nothing like I thought it did. I thought it was fine, I thought I was fine.
But the truth of the matter is that my life does not fit me anymore.
Parts of it are good still, but there are so many things that no longer serve the person I want to be.
I hate most of my clothing, purchased in my early to mid twenties. The few pieces I love have been purchased in the last year.
I look at my books and love them, but have little to no interest in reading them again. My shelves tell the story of who I have been, but the dust on top of those books tells how long it has been since I picked them up.
My office/craft room is full of things I want to let go of, because those projects no longer make me happy to work on.
My list of music I have played on repeat for so long no longer tells people where I am when I cannot.
My life does not fit me anymore.
Am I allowed to pack everything up? I am not running away; that would only be a temporary solution. But how interesting it would be to pack up my life and then unpack only the things that I really wanted? To pretend to be a newlywed again, slowly finding new things to fit onto a new life?
And since my husband is one of the few people who I feel still fits who I want to be and someone I know will be an asset in helping me be who I want to become, starting over as newlyweds sounds nice.
I think it goes back to this post. I have to figure out what I really want, and then go do that.
As I sit here, my brain did a funny thing: I was thinking that I needed to do something as an outward gesture to show myself and everyone else that I am making changes.
Brain: Haircut tomorrow... maybe we should get it colored too! OOOhhhh... maybe that really cool purple we love so much! Maybe a dark red!!
When I worked at Target years ago, one of the guys noticed that the girls tended to make crazy changes to hair and nails. He asked why we did that. I responded that girls change things like nails because we have control over what color our nails are, and so when we feel like things are out of control in other parts of our lives, we change our nails. He said, okay, but what about the hair? I gave him The Look and said: We change our hair when changing our nails is not enough of taking control.
So, in order to make my life fit who I want to be, I suppose it is important to know how I want that version of me to look.
I might need to go play with hair styles on Pinterest. My hair appointment is early tomorrow.