What do we become as women at thirty-one?
Are we put out to pasture?
Or are we doing the kicking to the curb?
Are we like the woman of the 1960’s?
Childless, no husband, so no value?
Are we no longer desired?
Are we spinsters, old-maids, bachelorettes for life?
Or are do we fit my Uncles words:
“The most beautiful women are in their thirties.”
Is it just the beginning, or is it the end?
A last stretch of youth?
Or maybe, a reach for adulthood?
Where some intelligence kicks in,
And you’re tired of the lies,
Meaningful nights; mornings depressed.
So, you’ll wait for the right kind of guy,
With the right kind of flaws;
Or maybe you live your own charmed life?
Happy to be single, confident, relaxed.
Is it coming out of bubble gum and pink clouds?
Finally not a girl;
But a woman who can impact change?
Is it refinement and elegance?
A striving for grace and eloquence?
Is it realizing there is no Prince Charming?
No white horse or Disney fairytale?
Building your own life,
Do you forge it the best you can?
Is it becoming aware even greater,
Your teachers in childhood are growing older;
Your most lives won’t be around forever,
So, you gather their wisdom while you can;
Spend time with them now.
Time steals loved ones; be they young or old.
Is thirty-one when you realize,
You are not impervious to dying at anytime in life?
Severe fatigue, cancer, lupus, Thyroid troubles,
Depression, anxiety, car accidents, the flu, MS;
Disease in some form, affects us all,
Bodies which don’t bounce back as easily;
Requiring movement to maintain fitness,
And junk food, oh you’ll pay for it later!
Sharing a bottle of vodka, tequila, or wine;
Drinking almost all of it,
Can this be done anymore, and survived?
Two glasses of wine or two beers,
Every once in a while seems alright,
Or face the two-day hangover regrettfully.
The biggest thing about being thirty-one,
I’ll never get back years in my twenties,
Lost in fatigue and mental illness, affects of meds;
They’re fond memories of genuine friends;
Futures, I see possibilities of having.
But someone wise once wrote, at the ages if 15 to 32:
Don’t worry about marriage, kids, or being grown-up;
Just enjoy and learn, explore the world.
The wanderlust calls to me endlessly,
A mysterious adventure waiting;
Such planning, such difficulties, such hardship;
For a fantastic trip; I could barely walk all day,
Or afford it; but wouldn’t it be worth it?
To have thousands of foot prints,
To cover my pages, and see it’s okay – life goes how it does.
Thirty-one it’s only begun; an age of aspirations,
Hopefully, inspirations to write more of;
As numerous as my days in all my years allotted.
Passion and a life to live, anyway I know how.
Grace of God abounding; encircling profoundly,
His child, he won’t let stumble long.
He guards with angels, and —
His forever promise of light in the dark;
As wise JK Rowling wrote through Dumbledore:
“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times;
If only one will Remember, to turn on the light.”
©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved