Before I jump into today’s post, I wanted to share a quick update about my grandmother. She’s being released from the hospital to an assisted living/rehab facility this morning. We finally got some test results and straight answers about what she has and treatment options, so she’s progressing to the next step. We’re hoping she’ll be home and well for Christmas.
November wasn’t transformative like I originally thought. It was productive and I was exhausted, but ironically enough, part of that exhaustion was from being lazy with myself. Eating right and exercising fell by the wayside, so I’m getting back on track in December. I don’t care what anyone says – my birthday is one day and so is Christmas, so the entire month is not shot to healthy eating and self-care.
Speaking of my birthday, I’m turning 30 on the 16th. When I was younger, 30 always seemed to be the year of panic. If you’re a woman who hasn’t had a child, that biological clock has become a screaming siren, so you better get to it old girl and have yourself a baby! And then whether you have the baby or not, the hormones and your looks do a complete 180. Don’t even both trying to look good, feel youthful or be happy with anything ever again.
So 30 might as well have been 80 and was something to dread.
And yet here I am, completely at peace and forgiving myself and others around me in a way I haven’t ever done before. I’ve nailed down who I am and I’m secure in that woman. I’m grounded but also more optimistic than before, realizing that the world is in fact my oyster. It feels like all the questions in my 20s that never had concrete answers are finally concluding. Everything within me is coming together and I’m able to climb all the mountains.
The other big part of December is Christmas. I went a little overboard when I was Christmas shopping in October. I love picking gifts out, wrapping them with beautiful, coordinated papers and seeing my folks’ or grandparents’ faces when they see what I got them. The secondary reason is this is my first Christmas as a single woman. I gotta be honest – not having someone fretting over my money, how I spend it, if I use my credit card, if I’m buying too much “cheap” stuff, or how it will look if my folks figure out that I and not we picked out the gift has been wonderful. I didn’t realize how much stress one person could add until I was taking inventory of my purchases and getting excited about playing Santa.
It also didn’t help that the world was in such as weird place this time last year. Half of the local events I would have gone to were either not happening or would have been miserable to try to attend, so I didn’t get to walk around the Short North Pole or go to Wildlights at the Columbus Zoo. Being unemployed and trying to job search didn’t do much to foster the warm holiday spirit either.
But now that all of that is behind me. I can’t help but feel energized and excited again the same way I did when I was 23-going-on-24, newly arrived to the city in early December for a new job and new life. The city then was alive and the lights had gone up in downtown, along the Scioto Mile and Columbus Commons. Garlands were hanged over the doorways of the churches, and everything was so festive and bustling.
This time around, December isn’t just fun and fracas. There’s also a peace and settling feeling coming over me. I’m getting a year older and a new season is upon us. There’s magic unfolding and I know my place within it – as Allison, as the Broad Running Broad, and as all that I am meant to be.
I’m wishing you all a magical, peaceful and transformative time this December. For my Christian readers, this is the month our Savior is born. Joy to the world and peace on Earth indeed.
Yours in writing and running,
Gotta give you an unsolicited obviously male perspective. Say what you want about young women. Sure, sure, sure. But the women who’ve always stood out are older women. Far and away. If you think pushing past 30 dooms you to being somehow not beautiful, not vital, not alluring, put on the old bonnet and think again. Women don’t hit stride until they have a few years. There’s a sophisticated beauty young women can never have until, well, until they are the older woman. Look around. Men really pay attention to the mystique, the marvel of a woman after thirty. Now, I cannot talk about biologic clock. Out of my league and expertise. That’s one you have to handle by yourself. (A male might be requisite, but I dunno.) Revel in your years! And continued improvement for Gram.