Ah, the number 13. It’s a good number. Some see it as a bad number, superstitious number, evil number. Today, it marks a milestone….and a memory. I distant memory, but very clear. It’s been 13 years since I was 16. Uh, do the math and you know how old I am. Whatever.
So when you are 16, what do you do?
You analyze everything about yourself and try to decide your place in the world. This analysis takes place everyday…especially at 16. Do I look ok, do I look cool enough, is there anything embarrassing about what I’m wearing, are all my zits covered but not covered-looking? You all remember classmates that shouldn’t have even bothered to cover their zits…because it made them much more noticeable.
Like, hey, look at me, I’m huge, red and have my own heartbeat. Check out this lovely cream frame around me!
This January analysis at 16 was important for me. I didn’t do a very good job. I really over-analyzed a little. Everything was perfectly fine…but we often make mountains out of mole hills, don’t we?
I come to this day…and this analysis again. I feel smarter. I feel a little over-analytical, still. I feel that I’ve made many many mistakes in the past 13 years and have learned a great deal about what I can expect of myself. I see that this journey never really ends…just changes.
I also can see that now I am the one with the zits. Dammit, don’t these things ever go away? I’ve got like 7 little heartbeats on my face as we speak! Shit.
In 13 more years I will be 42…and I will look back at this year. I will look back again to see what I have learned and analyze it all. Unlike at the age of 16, I am not afraid to step outside my house without changing my clothes over and over to look perfectly disheveled. I don’t go over possible conversations with cute boys in my head…conversations that never really end up happening. Let’s just say I wasn’t the cute one in our class. I wasn’t the dog…but not the pretty, popular girl. If I was, I would’ve analyzed even more.
At 42, I will no longer analyze everything, every move, every day, every interaction, every thought…Why does it take that long to get it? I really hope I don’t still have zits then. Aren’t the 40’s supposed to be the new 20’s or something?