Growing Up

Most of my life, I walk through the day feeling about 17.  Then sometimes, 27.  But mostly 17. 

I was in line at the liquor store this week, and the woman in front of me was asked for ID.  And as she pulled out her drivers license and smirked at her date, it hit me: "I'm not going to get ID'd."  Like not even close. One wine store has a sign that says "We ID anyone under 30."  That was 10 year ago.  Ten.  Okay, well, nine.  But nine is basically 10, so yeah, TEN YEARS.

One thing about 30 being 10 years ago is that even though I feel all 17 and inexperienced and not to be taken seriously and beginnery, in fact, I do kind of know what I'm doing.  There are not too many situations left where I am completely clueless.  And I forget that feeling capable is one of the benefits of all that experience I've accumulated. 

I am capable of raising children and registering them for swimming lessons and helping them when they aren't capable themselves. I am capable of apologizing when I am wrong and I am capable of redress and restoration. I am capable of research and answer finding and more importantly I am capable of recognizing when I need to do some research and answer finding. I am capable of saying how I feel in a big-girl voice. I am capable of letting things go and holding on to what matters.  I am capable of knowing the difference.

The difficulty is the gap between being capable and feeling capable. Walking through this life feeling 17 means that I often bump into situations where I ought to be capable, but I've forgotten that I am and so I act as though I am not and then chaos ensues. Or at least misery for someone near me.

As I edge to being more of who I have been hoping I might one day be, I bet remembering that I am capable is going to helpful.