Do you remember the show My So-Called Life? Of course you do. How could you forget it?
Anyways… I loved that show. At the time I felt like I connected so deeply with the characters. And not just with Angela, but with Rayanne, Ricki and even Jordan Catalano, too. I recently watched the one, and only, season of My So-Called Life on Netflix. It reminded me how much I miss my youth. It’s so strange to say that. I’m 30 years old. But I still feel like I’m in high school. I’ve got some gray hairs here and there, but I feel like my mentality never shifted from adolescence to adulthood as it has for most, and probably should have for me too by now.
I remember this one time at a football game in high school. I was talking to my then-boyfriend’s mom in the parking lot. She was very angry with me because I had smoked pot with her daughter. I could understand why she was upset. I wasn’t an idiot. I was just a teenager. But I remember the conversation so well, because I felt so terrible. Like, sad… And I remember we somehow got on the topic of how she felt as an adult, and she said she felt like she was still a kid. I understood, but I never really “got” it. Not until now.
I’m 30. And I’m not really upset about being 30. But it’s so strange to me that all of these friends that I’ve made, and most of the people in my life, have transformed into adults over the years. But here I am, still yearning for the warm summer days when I can drive around with all my windows open, blasting the Dead, and wearing my tie-dye shirts and Birkenstocks.
Why haven’t I grown up, too? I wear very conservative clothing when I’m with people I’m not very well acquainted with, or when we go out on mom’s nights out. But when I’m in my element I still wear band tees, listen to loud music, and dream of the days when I had little responsibility.
I hope that I’m a good mother for my son. And I also hope that he is fortunate enough to hold onto his youth and be proud of it. I don’t want him to get lost in the day-in, day-out monotony of adult life and responsibility. I want him to live his life. And make mistakes. And learn from them. But I don’t want him to be a drone.
Sometimes I feel like I’m a drone. And then I remember that when the sun comes out and the fog is lifted, I’m still an individual. And I’m still young. And I just don’t care what authority thinks. And I frankly don’t care what society mandates I do or say, or how I act. I may be gray and I may be 15+ years older than I was when I first discovered my obsession with music and all things peace and love, but I don’t care.
C’est la vie!
