The Midlife Crisis is Realizing You're Adult

As a fifteen year old, after school, I’d turn to Oprah to learn about the world then The Young And The Restless for updates on how personal dramas can go sideways. This was how I’d unwind.

After school my fifteen year old does not return home and slump into the living room couch to watch soap operas and learn from Oprah. She has a phone. My daughter comes home and takes a snack to her room to watch TikToks and dive rabbit holes to unwind.

The afternoon which led to me thinking about mid-life crisis began with Bea going to her room to relax, but re-emerging a few minutes later with a,

”Your REDDIT haters said you got a boob job.”

I told her not to read the fan fiction.

I have no idea what it’s like to have a mother with a presence online. It must be fucking terrible.

But, I digress…

Midlife crisis. I thought about it a lot after Bea reminded me that my Boba’s giant boobs are coming for me. This is what I was thinking about…

I don’t think we become adults until we hit our second wave of hormones.

I don’t think it’s a crisis. I think it’s a come to Jesus.
I think it’s growing up.

We arrive in our forties, we see change in our bodies and faces, and we realize how we were children swept into our late thirties.

We grabbed things along the way that were wrong and held on to them. Like worry.

”Turning forty is the best.”

Why do women always say that? I’ll tell you. Hormones that surge like you are twelve years old humping the monkey bars at school.
With this surge, and wisdom behind you, you really stop giving a shit about a lot of the things you’d chosen to worry about. In giving this up, your personality shifts.

From what I’m hearing, people who choose to live healthy lifestyles and are currently under the age of fifty can live to the average age of one-hundred and ten.

If we can live to one-hundred and ten, why did my girlfriend show emotion about being twenty-eight and almost thirty? Why does society make a woman worry about her age before forty, even?

Babies.

Fuck babies.

If you have one, cool, if you don’t, cool.

We aren’t the Greatest Generation anymore, you guys.
We aren’t Boomers.
Fuck them and fuck those parameters.
Why are we still breaking our brains and feeling old on their timeline of CIS heterosexual marriages? Why are we still sexualizing only baby child women faces and bodies when MILF is the sex prompt that has the most hits?

I pray Gen Z doesn’t continue to chose to hate turning thirty and forty and feeling invisible at any age over fifty.

We’re all idiots. Children. I can imagine the Greatest Generation didn’t get it, but we do and I don’t understand why we adhere to these large group thoughts about aging. But here I am.

Anyhow, this ramble was brought to you by:

YOU ARE JUST BECOMING AN ADULT AT FORTY.

GIVE YOURSELF SOME GRACE.

AGING IS WEIRD IN THE MIRROR ONLY BECAUSE WE SEXUALIZE YOUTH.

MY TITS ARE REAL AND I HAVE A RASH UNDER ONE I JUST BOUGHT MAGIC EGYPTIAN CREAM TO GET RID OF IT.