It’s My Party & I’ll Cry if I Want To

What a whirlwind the entirety of the last week has been. Another birthday, another year older, another weekend filled with busy obligations and Jiu Jitsu events. I’ve been struggling (nay, been devastated) coming to terms with the reflection I see in the mirror lately. My face just feels different, in a way that I don’t even seem to recognize myself anymore. I’m no longer looking in the mirror to scrutinize if what I see is pretty enough like I did in my adolescence (to whom, idk. Society’s expectations and standards of beauty?) Except, now I look at it in exasperation. Wondering when the fuck did I start looking so withered, so beaten down by life, so old. Sure, it’s a matter of perspective. To the Gen X’ers I’m exceptionally young and with my whole life ahead of me. To the fight world, I’m getting slow and haggard and should start hanging up the gloves. To the Gen Z crowd I have no place on social media as it’s too ‘cringey’ for someone my age. To the Jiu Jitsu world, I’m in the Master’s divisions, where some people think that major wins on the world’s biggest stage no longer mean anything the very second you age out of the adult divisions. Part of me wants to flaunt my middle finger to the world and anyone who thinks this way. The other part wants to cry over my achey joints, while I lie in bed with ice on my knees and hyaluronic cream on my face googling the price of Botox. 

I am struggling internally with all of the wonderful things that occur with the passage of time and all of the painful reminders of what has already occurred or is still yet to come. I feel like overnight I have developed deep-set lines in my forehead that may as well shine the spotlight on the years I have lived and the stress I have accrued. I find certain foods trigger an acid reflux response and it takes me days to recover from a particularly difficult training day, and I never feel without pain. I am swollen all of the time and it hurts if I turn my head too fast when switching lanes while I drive. I hate my body for not being able to keep up with the ambitious willpower of my mind and I despise the pain that I feel. I remember being 6 years old and hearing my Aunt and her friends in the retirement community talk about not being able to eat a type of candy because it was way too sweet. I thought to myself how incredulous that was as sugar is the absolute greatest thing in the world. Now, I can’t even drink gatorade unless I dilute it with some water first. I don’t even have the luxury to lie about my age as I’m a triplet and my stupid brothers would gallivant it anyways. The only positive I try and look for is that getting older beats the alternative which is simply, dying young.

When my husband and I first got together, I was 26 going on 27 and pretty much a dumbass with a lot to learn. I remember admiring his role as a father and how seamless and easy he made it look while I struggled constantly in figuring out how to navigate this new venture. I was always hurting my own feelings when inevitably I wouldn’t do things right, having zero prior experiences with kids. I had no younger siblings, no younger cousins, no friends who had kids in which who’s lives I was involved in. I sucked at it. But with the passage of time I familiarized myself with it more, becoming more and more comfortable. And this past weekend, his daughter gave me a whole bunch of gifts and even a cake to help celebrate my birthday. She even reversed the numbers for me as she knows what a sensitive topic that it is that I am struggling with. When I begin to get sad at my youth slipping away, I am reminded of the strong relationships I have built, simply by growing up, and without a doubt I have never felt so loved in my entire life. I hope she knows how much that truly meant to me. Things like this make me think that even though I have chosen never to bear children, maybe I won’t be abandoned once I am elderly and have no one to care for me as I die alone.

I hate the migraines I have developed over the years, the injuries that won’t ever seem to heal, the dilapidated joints that just won’t mend. I know it has all been my choice, as the acceleration in the regression of my body has been primarily because of the sport I have thrust myself into. I just love it so much and couldn’t imagine my life without it. I am simply not ready to be done. I rarely put on makeup and haven’t been blessed with good genetics so I always look my age and never any younger. I do eat well and exercise because of my profession so at least I can be as healthy as possible, if you ignore every muscle sprain, tendon tear, joint degeneration, and all of the osteoarthritis taking over my body like the cordyceps fungi zombie apocalypse. The copious amounts of pain are also inhibiting my sleep pattern, which naturally leads to more chronic fatigue and less recovery, and speeds up the aging process even more. It’s 2023 and I can’t believe nothing has been invented or discovered to cure arthritis and joint pain. I just want to not be hurting all of the damn time. I’d even trade more wrinkles and gray hairs just to not perpetually suffer and hurt.

There are so many things I wish I can go back in time to change. I would have taken better care of my skin, implementing a regiment in my youth to be more preventative in maintaining more collagen rather than trying to place a bandaid over the problem. I would have refrained from inverting every 5 seconds at purple belt and collapsing my spine and neck and irreversibly damaging it. I would have never had my first 2 knee surgeries while still in high school and would have focused much more on rehabilitation and muscle strengthening. But I do know that all of my choices brought me to the love of my life, where who knows what would have happened if I had partaken on a different path, and if all else fails in my body or I wake up tomorrow looking like the crypt keeper, none of that matters as long as I have my husband. Sure, I’m hurting, I no longer find myself attractive, I am suffering bouts of depression due to either my appearance or the functionality of my body, but I have my partner in life and have found true love; a blessing not everyone gets to experience. He always calls me beautiful, and whether or not I even believe him, I appreciate how kind he is to me and I am so grateful for his love. I know I will endure the difficulty this past week has brought me, and I will be hopeful that one day there will be something that exists to help numb the pain a bit. Until then, there’s ibuprofen, ice, and who knows, maybe a little bit of Juvederm in my near future.