Getting Older; Not A Scary Affair

I love my inner child, the young girl inside me who likes animation films and still finds delight in popping bubble wraps and immersing herself in wild fantasies. I would not want to let go of that tiny voice that reminds me of the innocent words I used to speak when I was a little dreamer, the words that keep me grounded to date and that remind me of who I promised myself to be. She is a piece of me that I would hate to lose because there would be no wholeness without her in me, and even as I grow and age, I hope that she stays with me. 

Growing older is a beautiful process. I keep reminding myself of the times I used to be a child and all I wanted were a nice pair of Bata Toughees school shoes and a chance to play outdoor games the whole day. When the pleasure of waking up in bed in the morning was guaranteed even if I had laid on the couch the previous night. I used to cherish moments with my father like when he would carry me on his shoulders to a football match and teach me the rules of the game. Chapatis were a gem then and happiness was as simple as breathing warm air onto a cold window and then making sketches on the moisture. I used to be less worried about everything. I would eat raw unwashed mangoes dipped in molasses collected from a leaking truck parked by the roadside and would not fall sick. Scratching an itchy nostril in public was not a big deal and problem solution was as easy as biting a nail and believing that crossed fingers would make the world work in my favor. Even though bullies sometimes made childhood seem stressful and unbearable, I would sometimes let them know that I had a soldier father with a gun, which was a rare possession in the place I grew up in. Surprisingly, that silly move put me ahead of my bullies and worked for me in desperate moments.

The transition to teenagehood was anticlimactic and overwhelming. Everything suddenly became foreign. Hanging out with my parents became "uncool" and I felt unwanted whenever they did not approve of my needs such as night outs, hair dye, and multiple ear piercings. These times brought with them unusual emotions, I would cry whenever a boy wrote me a love letter and cry even more when I did not receive any. Being a teenager was confusing. I did not know whether to wear revealing clothes for confidence boosting or to go with clothes that covered up everything in the name of modesty and self-respect I did not understand whether it was right or wrong to have a romantic partner or whether sex was acceptable or not. Life was scary because my body was asking for things I was told were either wrong or reckless! 

Fast forward to womanhood. The early twenties were a bit edgy. Mistakes were made, lots of toxic positivity bolstered, and I felt myself falling into a void space. I could not save myself from all the darkness that surrounded me at the time. I stayed lost for some time but then, like a rising-back-on-track montage, I fell in love again with someone who brought with him a psychedelic impact on my life. He helped me instill a strong virtue in me and I felt on top of the world. I got myself up with the consolation that my life was precious and I had reasons to live. With that consolation, I braced myself to work on my entire being; mentally, spiritually, and physically. Before I knew it, I was bolting heavy weights at the gym and burning calories in amounts I never had before. There was a certain animated sensation that came with a great gym workout. It was amazing how the sore muscles after a leg day, the sharp tightness in the stomach after vigorous core exercises, and the intense heat after full-back training, only made me hungry for more grind. I was hungry, I fed myself and my muscles were beautifully toned. That reminds me, I need to start hunting for a gym again soon, but for today and maybe tomorrow and the day after, home workouts will just do. 

The twenties are still with me and they are mostly warm and safe except for the days when my mind betrays me and start reminding me of the debts and the responsibilities that hang on my neck, with people everywhere every time asking about my five-year plans and other pressure-inducing questions. I like the fact that I did not hurry my growth though, I was a child when I needed to be one.  My childhood was not suppressed in any destructive way and I am grateful for that. I love that I have formed into a woman and I still have the opportunity to correct any wrongs I might have made and more so, I love that I am still growing and learning and that I have learnt to embrace growing older.

I am looking forward to my thirties in a few years and I can not wait to reach there, to experience what the third floor has to offer. I have in mind a bold and elegant woman who is unafraid and whose power is vast. A rational woman who only makes worthy sacrifices. I hope to keep all my good friends and hope to make more. I intend to reach better places and I hope I get to live the words of a 33-year-old friend of mine, "Life is kinder in your thirties... Even sex gets better." I believe her because her eyes were glowing when she said that. I shall take it slow and learn from my past mistakes, and if I get favored enough to live my wrinkled years, I hope to still be young at heart and I hope my inner child still thrives in moments when I need her to. 

I also feel the need to urge unhinged people who thrive on gender ageism to keep their expiration dates to themselves and let people who want to grow up show up with a superman pose.

Photo credits: Komal G from Unsplash