I’m not getting hair plugs.
I’m 29.
I’ve been 29 for two months.
And I’ll admit, I don’t feel 29.
I’ve noticed that my legs stay sore a little longer after I’ve worked out than they used to and I’ve noticed that when I sit in my reading chair a certain way, my lower back tells me about it for at least a day. Other than that, I don’t feel 29.
My hair line recedes a bit more each year but I don’t put much worry into it. I’ve thought about what I’ll do if my hair turns into one of those cul-de-sac catastrophes and whether I’ll get hair plugs or not. And as of right now, I say I won’t. Mostly because hair plugs feel like cheating and I’ve cheated on enough things in my life to know that cheating doesn’t get you anywhere you really want to be anyway. Alas, I’ll miss my hair but I won’t be getting hair plugs.
Where my weight is concerned, I’m content. I weigh 178 pounds and I’m six feet and one inch tall which is, more or less, how I’ve been built for the last twelve years. I have a rigorous workout regimen and I’m judicious with my diet so that I stay this way. I was fat when I was a kid. I often think that learning how to manage my weight is the secret upside of being a fat kid. Sometimes I feel bad for the adults who were skinny as kids. We all know them. You might even be one. In which case I say: sorry you weren’t fat. Because while I spent my childhood envious of all the other kids born with six pack abs eating popsicles in the front yard running through the sprinkler with their shirts off, I was busy hating being fat and trying to imagine life not being fat. Sure, the skinny kids didn’t have to wear a shirt in the pool the way I did but I’ll trade those pool-shirt-wearing days for not having to worry about my weight at 29 any day. And I’ve observed that it’s much more difficult to lose weight the older you get which makes me happy I had to figure out how to do it when I was 19. And it makes me happy that I have to worry less about my weight at 29 than most of the formerly skinny people I know.
At 29, I didn’t think I’d have to think about money as much as I do. Money has come as a bit of a shock. And maybe it shouldn’t be as much of a shock as it’s been. After all, as I said, I’ve cheated on many things. One of those things was my schoolwork. So it should be no surprise to me that I have to worry about money now. I worry more about money now than I ever have and that’s because I have less of it and have to work harder for it now than I ever have. I don’t think I worry too much about it. But I do worry about it more than I ever thought I would.
And there’s this about being 29: the other day, someone told me they thought I was 24 years old. I was surprised to hear this. My entire adulthood people have overestimated my age. Most people I’ve met used to think I was at least 5 years older than I really was. This never surprised me. Because for most of my adulthood I felt like I had to act more mature than I was for reasons I’ve already written about and for reasons I’ll probably continue to write about. When asked why this person thought I was 24, I was told it’s the way I act. I’m still not sure how I act but apparently it’s sorta like I’m 24.
I was neither offended nor delighted that this person thought I was 24.
Just surprised.
And it turns out that this is basically what it feels like to be 29.
It feels like being slightly more sore than you thought you’d be after a workout but also not nearly as sore as you thought you’d be after a workout.
It feels like knowing your hairline is receding but caring less about it than you thought you would.
It feels like being comfortable with your weight while watching others around you struggle with theirs. And it feels like knowing what they feel like struggling with their weight. And it feels like wanting to help them because you know what it feels like but also knowing there’s nothing you can do for them until they want to do it for themselves.
I’m neither offended nor delighted that this is what it feels like to be 29.
Just surprised.
