Adapt and Grow (Up)

Things are always changing, and finding the right person in life to help adapt with those changes is so important when it comes to living a fulfilling and happy life. I sure as hell am not the same person now as I was in my early 20s, and I know that if I had tried to date my husband any sooner than I did, it would have been a tragically disastrous scenario (and also, the age gap would have made it a no-go regardless). Things that bothered me back then aren’t even remotely close to the things that irritate me now, and I also understand that in life, there are much more prudent things to concern myself with. The older I get, the more I have related to the phrases about youth being wasted on the young or hearing that with age comes wisdom. Life experiences help to cultivate your perceptions and the ways in which you interact with others and how you think. And unfortunately, the more grief, tragedy, and sadness someone has dealt with, the more they let frivolity fall by the wayside in lieu of concerning themselves with more pressing matters. Sadly, someone who shows extreme maturity probably does so because of deep-seated traumas in their past, and thus understands how trivial matters need no acknowledgement.

Unfortunately, sometimes there are people who seem to never grow up and adapt into adulthood. In fact, it actually surprises me how many people still cling onto a high school mentality, harboring resentment when they see others spending time together without them or seething with jealousy over the lives and accomplishments of anyone else. Not only have I seen this for people in their late 20’s, but 30’s, 40’s, and 50’s as well. What a privileged life these people must have lived to allow such minute circumstances and nonissues occupy space in their minds. If you find someone else’s happiness, success, or life so grating, then it’s time to do a wee bit of self reflection to figure out why. Usually it’s due to an area in which you yourself are struggling or falling short in, and it is fueling your insecurities. A flower in the wild never concerns itself with the growth of other plants or whether or not others mistake it for a weed, but flourishes its petals regardless.

My husband often talks about how communication is vital in life and that the majority of problems can be solved if people simply talk to one another. He’s definitely got a point; there are a multitude of movies and films where a problem arises simply out of confusion or misunderstandings, and all of that could be solved if the characters just talked with one another. Then again, there would be no more plot if this took place and conflicts in films would be resolved within 20 minutes. My life isn’t a movie and I’d rather people talked to me instead of misconstruing their own ideas or creating false scenarios in their head. For example, the internet and social media often paints embellished or perpetuated narratives that deviate from the truth, especially now that A.I. is front and center. It has also allowed for a shield of anonymity for dubious and miserable people. I have received my fair share of hatred and vitriol posted anonymously, some ranging from slight insults on my appearance to other things that were utterly vile and could even land people in some legal trouble. I do not understand it. If someone has an issue with me, I wish they would talk to me about it. Or if the issue stems from envy, maybe a little bit of inner peace would suffice.

I am 32, and my tolerance for immaturity is waning. My schedule keeps me exceptionally busy, and I do not have time for silly games from people who clearly need help. And of course I married the most selfless and kindest person ever, who always wants to help others and give people chances. And when I see those people basically sh*t on those chances, it fills me with anger. Or people who know nothing about your life and the things you are dealing with feeling like they have some sort of say in the things you are doing. Perhaps the worst of it is when others hear one side of a story, and formulate their own opinions of your character, taking a very biased version of events as the truth. I no longer care about how many people need to make me the antagonist of their story in order to be able to sleep at night, totally leaving out any and all transgressions on their part. I’ve learned by now that many people make up their mind before hearing the whole story, nor do they care to even understand it because they enjoy the narrative of you being the bad guy. They can be two-faced as hell and show everyone a sweet side to them while only you know the real truth of their betrayal and disgusting and narcissistic ways. If they want to paint me as the villain, I hope I at least get a cool solo song like Scar when he sings “Be Prepared” in the Lion King.

I’m extremely grateful for all of my life experiences that helped me become the woman that I am today, even the hard lessons that absolutely sucked to go through and learn from. I feel fortunate that I have been able to adapt to many different stages of my life, and grow from all of it. If anything, I actually pity the grown ass adults that seem to enjoy the juvenile schoolyard mentality of being a mean girl, or the guys who thrive off of pettiness and bullying. While we all make mistakes or have maybe behaved in a way in the past that we aren’t super proud of or maybe even ashamed by, it’s only an everlasting issue if we never own up to it, apologize for it, or never learn from it. My errors have been valuable lessons in learning better methods to becoming a human of greater quality and caliber. And I have been haunted by the guilt I feel when reflecting upon past behaviors, but know that at the end of the day, I still try and will continue to try being better as a woman, a friend, a confidante, and a reliable and trustworthy person all around. Vicious people love to cut others down in order to feel superior, and honestly, who gives an eff? Do you and I’ll do me, and if someone finds it necessary to keep my name on their tongue, I hope they also enjoy my ass on their lips when they kiss it. Apparently I taste like peaches.