Some things I’ve outgrown
Cindy on May 23rd, 2008
Earlier this spring, I had lunch with Laurie, one of my closest friends since junior high school. Laurie and I also brought our moms, who are now in their late seventies and hadn’t seen each other in a long time. As we gathered around our table at a local hangout, it occurred to me that these women are my family — in both the literal and figurative sense.
I spent a lot of time at Laurie’s house when I was growing up. And so, just being with Laur and her mom was a heavy dose of 1970s nostalgia for me. Not surprisingly, our lunch conversation circled around memories of blasting the Hollies and the Rolling Stones on the stereo (“This is why I have a hearing problem now,” my mom joked). And Laurie recalled how we used to wander the neighborhood freely after dark on warm summer nights, which is something our own kids were never allowed to do. Things weren’t perfect for baby boomer kids; but they were different.
Looking around the table, I also realized that, between the four of us, we’d survived the deaths of three beloved husbands and fathers — Laurie was widowed not long after we both lost our dads — and three hip replacement surgeries (two of which were mine). In spite of our losses, things had turned out well enough for all of us and we’d grown stronger.
We had a lot to laugh about, too. Twice during our conversation, the phrase “Thank God, we’ve outgrown that” came up, sometimes half seriously. I thought about this all the way home, and later that day, I was inspired to start a list, by no means complete, of some things I’ve outgrown:
–Everything that’s a size 6
–Tampons
–Fingernail decals
–The need to be liked by every single person I encounter
–The idea that I should be happy all the time
–Most fashion magazines
–Desperately competitive people
–The notion that everyone else has it all figured out, and I don’t
–Worrying about what people think of my politics and/or religious views
–Valuing style over substance
–Confusing my career with my real life
–Barrettes
–One-sided conversations with self-absorbed people
–Shoes with pointy toes/high heels
–Frosted pink lipstick
–The desire to meet Paul McCartney
–Inauthentic relationships with relatives
–The belief that I can solve every single one of my kid’s problems or worries
–The belief that I look good with orange streaks in my hair
Soon, I plan to make a list of things I haven’t outgrown — like some of my old friends, eating chocolate-chip cookie dough before it’s baked, or the small town that made me feel grounded and safe. Meanwhile, I’d love to know what the rest of you have “outgrown” (or not) after reaching middle age. – Cindy La Ferle
May 23rd, 2008 at 11:57 am
Cindy,
What a great post…just what I needed to read today.
Can we add white lip-stick, control-top panty-hose and driver’s who make mean gestures to your list?
You’re the best, cuz.
Betty
May 24th, 2008 at 9:20 am
Let’s see…how about pettipants, girdles (wore one the first year of high school and weighed, at the time, 105 lbs at 5’5″), garters for stockings and those belts for sanitary napkins that I wore for six long months before switching to Pursettes. Super post!
May 25th, 2008 at 3:44 pm
Love your post…as always! May I add the need to no longer have long, troublesome hair, tower high heels, and more importantly no longer feeling the need to be nice to people who are solely takers and name droppers. Thank you Cindy, once again you’ve made me smile as you have through my recent hip surgery – happy to be part of your club!
May 26th, 2008 at 7:14 pm
I’ve outgrown the belief that ideas coming from the top down are “more important” than ideas derived from the bottom up.
May 27th, 2008 at 11:44 am
Thank God I’ve outgrown:
1. The need to eat every candy that comes my way, simply because it is candy and candy is “a treat.”
2. Assuming that all of my “idols” are more together than I am and/or that they will never disillusion me. (And vice versa, for that matter.)
3. Looking at the world like a disaffected 14 year old.
4. The need to act the second I have a strong emotion.
5. The assumption that you already have to be perfect at an activity in order to pursue it. In fact, I’ve become rather militant: “Yeah, I’m a red-faced, sweaty, fat person in exercise wear, puffing and panting at the gym. I’m here instead of hiding at home on the couch with a box of cookies and a bag of chips. Get over it.”
May 27th, 2008 at 3:16 pm
Amen to all of these!