Think Pink

Birthdays, blossoms, and babies! April has been busy!

Welcome back! Thank you for being patient while I took a short break last week. Life is settling back to normal after the whirlwind of a new school year beginning. My first news is that I have once again circled the sun! My orbital journey culminated last Saturday with sunshine, sunsets, sakura blooms, and a very silly birthday cake. The world was rosy pink up in Nagahama where I celebrated my 31st with a close friend at our Ohanami picnic, and the last weekend for cherry blossoms did not disappoint as falling petals drifted like snow all around us. I felt like champagne - bubbly and sweet as we laughed and chatted the hours away.

Birthday bliss and Ohanami (cherry blossom viewing)

As fun as my birthday was, 31 is an adult age, and I can`t be one of those! I still procrastinate just as much as I did in college. My favorite sweet treat is sour gummy candy. I wear friendship bracelets and dress like I am 18. I have stuffed animals on my bed. Every night, I drink a mug of Sleepytime tea just like I have since I was seven. I like fantasy and naps and can’t for sure say that I don’t believe in fairies (after all, they are very small). In my appearance, I feel maybe 24. In my brain, I am 27. In my heart, I am 10. 

Over the last year or two, I have become increasingly interested in the difference between my actual age and my subjective age (the age I feel). I spoke to my dad about the discrepancy, and he expressed a similar experience. If you take the two of us as a study, the older you are, the greater the difference is between your actual and subjective age. In a 2006 study, researchers found that adults ages 40 and over perceive themselves as, on average, 20 percent younger than they are. There are many reasons for the difference, and further studies have been done to explore the disparity (Subjective Age Across the Life Span). Regardless of the reasons, subjective age discrepancies seem to be a universal experience. Perhaps this accounts for some of our discomfort with aging.

According to the second study linked above, life experiences that correlate with specific ages may be a factor in the development of subjective age. When we hit milestones we expect to hit or that society tells us to hit, we associate age with them. So what happens when we are not hitting those milestones? What happens when we hit different ones instead or go out of order? I think this is where my problem lies. I am not too shy to say that I have not hit the milestones I expected to hit (yet), and it`s a topic I have written about in previous posts (read here). I am not married or in a serious relationship. My career, thanks to my decision to move, is not decided yet. I do not own any real estate, nor am I likely to any time soon. I have endured my first mammogram, but I am not yet a mother. I have moved and explored new cities, but I didn`t settle down. I see friends and family members meeting these expected milestones in their twenties and early thirties, and though I am happy for them, I cannot help but fall into comparison.

Older people tell me that I am still young. Just enjoy your youth! Make mistakes and take your time! There is no right path! Logically, I know they are right, but truthfully, I find their well-meaning comments rather unhelpful. All I have ever known is to look forward to those milestones. Do these things to be successful. This message is so deeply ingrained in our society and education that the wise words of my seniors cannot calm my fear of falling behind. Perhaps they experienced these anxieties at one time, but the years have washed the discomfort from memory. Maybe they actually met the milestones and followed the expected timeline. When this is the case, I am happy for them, but I cannot relate. While I appreciate their sentiments coming from a place of knowledge and support, validating my anxiety as an unfortunate consequence of growing up in our society would be a more appropriate response. 

And yet, I am not in a total pit of despair! Milestones have been reached. I have rented my own apartment and purchased furniture. I have built up a personal library. I have adopted a pet and planted/killed/re-planted many plants. I have learned to cook real food and have made lasting friendships on my own. I have earned degrees. I have developed hobbies. I have moved on my own and visited foreign lands. I look at my friends or classmates who made different choices and followed more traditional paths. I see their choices working for them, so I cheer them on as their lives settle and their families grow. I also know that that path has not been right for me. The things I do want and the things I don`t are blurred in my mind. I am proud of where I am and worried that I am missing out or falling too far behind to ever catch up. I want to have it all, but I don`t know how to get it.

Spring adventures around Maibara, Japan.

Before I was born, my Grandma Jan sent a card to my mom. For context, my brother, then 2, was probably terrorizing the house in that cute but exhausting way toddlers are famous for. The thought of another boy entering the mix might have been too much to imagine. My grandmother had a hunch though. In her card, she wrote THINK PINK. Weeks later, little Laura was born, and balance was restored in the force. My grandmother was thrilled, of course. Her little girl had arrived a bit early but relatively healthy. I wonder what her expectations for me were. When she wrote that card, dreaming of a granddaughter, what future did she imagine for me? I have never asked. I know she loves me, but has my wiggly path through early adulthood matched her vision? 

I think about this now, in particular, not only because of my 31st birthday but because of another milestone I recently hit. Last week, on April 9th, my baby niece, Adelina, was born, and there is nothing like a new life beginning to put your own in perspective.

Her parents were sure that Adelina would be a boy, though they kept her sex a mystery. However, like my grandmother, I had a hunch. In the months leading up to her birth, I had to actively try not to refer to Adelina as her. In fact, the night before she was born, I had a dream that I got a call from my brother saying “Say hello to your niece!” And there she was: tiny and pink and perfect. It was so real that when I woke up, I had to triple-check my phone to make sure I had been dreaming. Maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe it was premonition or manifestation, maybe it was just a dream. I was thinking pink, and I turned out to be right.

My days have been turned upside down by Adelina. The time difference between her home and mine is 14 hours, so I wake up in the morning with updates about her day and go to bed at night with news of how she slept. My phone camera is quickly filling up with photo upon photo of baby and her first week of adventures. I see her squishy, perfect little face and wonder who she is and who she will become. I long to hold her, talk to her, and know her. I am planning gifts I’ll send back from Japan and conversations I will have with her as she gets older. I will tell her stories about her dad that he only vaguely remembers. I will play Lucinda Williams for her and will listen to any music she recommends. I may not be close enough to babysit or attend her school events, but I will love her nonetheless. I already do.

Welcome, Adelina - April 9th, 2024! She looks just like her dad.

Amid my dreams and excitement, I am trying to limit my expectations of her future. My job as her aunt is to cheer her on in everything she does. My job is to watch her grow up into whoever she will be and love her all along the way. I have no expectations of her personality, hobbies, career, or identity - those things belong to her alone. I do not know what path she will take, which milestones she will reach, or in what order she will reach them. I want her to feel free and strong in her decisions. I want her to be open to ideas and passions, whatever they are. I want her to be proud of herself. 

Why am I okay with holding back expectations for her, but I can’t cut myself a break for my choices, especially when they led me here? I am frustrated and anxious, but if I had the chance to live my life again from day one and not remember any of what I have lived so far, I wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t want to risk losing the life I already have and making different choices that would take me elsewhere. I would hate not to spend my 31st birthday under a canopy of cherry blossoms while basking in the love of my family and its newest little member.

Maybe I need to think pink for myself. I should affix rose-colored glasses to the bridge of my nose and see the world and my place within it as a great big, wonderful choose-your-own adventure. Maybe I am falling behind some milestones but am running ahead of others I never imagined. Maybe I should just get comfortable with the reality that both fear and pride can exist in my life and that they are both valid. It is natural for us to want happier existences for generations to come, so, of course, I hope that my niece grows up to feel confident in her choices and path. But if she doesn`t and anxiety and judgment inevitably creep into her mind, I hope I can say I know, I remember, and your fears are valid. In the meantime, I will practice on myself.

As always, thank you for clicking into this week`s newsletter! If you know of anyone who might enjoy receiving this letter or others like it in their inbox, feel free to share this post. I appreciate everyone`s comments, likes, questions, and feedback - I am always happy when we can connect. Until next time, cheers!

Ending Notes

Listening To: When I was a kid, my mom and I spent about six years braving Girl Scouts together; she was a troop leader and I was a scout. Of course, this meant annual trips to Camp Libby in the middle of northern Ohio for a week of horse riding, swimming lessons, campfires, and mosquito bites. Each time we got in the car to drive to camp, she played the same album: Car Wheels on a Gravel Road by Lucinda Williams. Over time, this album became a symbol of both adventure and my connection with my mom. Years have passed, but my love for this album has only grown. Of all the albums I hope to share with Adelina someday, this one is at the top of the list. 

Recent Eats: I cannot rave enough about the carrots in Japan. They are sweeter than those in America and pack so much flavor. I never knew carrots could taste so good! To pacify my carrot cravings, I have been making a shaved cucumber-carrot salad at least once a week. To make it, use a peeler to shave the carrot and cucumber into long ribbons and add them to a bowl. The sauce is simple: chopped fresh garlic, chili garlic crisp (as much as you like for the spice), freshly grated ginger, soy sauce, rice vinegar, a little sesame oil, and some brown sugar. Mix it all well until the sauce has emulsified and the sugars have dissolved. Pour the sauce over the veggies and toss until each ribbon is coated and you have splattered your white shirt with red-brown sauce. For garnish, sprinkle on some green onions or toasted sesame seeds (or both - go crazy!). It`s fresh, it`s delicious, pair it with some protein and you`ll have a full meal!