On my 25th birthday, I stepped out of the shower and looked down. Oh my God, I thought…
Am I way too old for this belly button ring??
I had gotten it pierced when I was 18, my friend Urmi squeezing my hand as I laid on the table in the tattoo parlor. I knew my dad didn’t want me to do it, but I was eighteen. I felt fiercely independent as I left the shop giggling with a pretty pink gemstone and a slight throbbing under my shirt. The day felt like a little milestone, of making my own decisions, of expressing who I really wanted to be.
But then 25 hit and it felt like another milestone, one where I was supposed to be “a grown woman,” where maybe I couldn’t be that girl anymore who just seven years ago I’d been so excited to become.
It happens all throughout our lives, I think, where we have to take stock and rid ourselves of those clothing and accessories that just no longer seem to fit – not our bodies, but our lives. But I think it’s most frequent and pronounced in our twenties, when many of us go from being college kids to professionals, even wives and mothers.
It all seems to require a complete overhaul of everything we own – and sometimes everything we are. That can be pretty overwhelming…which is probably why we often cling to certain items far longer than we should, probably why I couldn’t bring myself to take out my belly button ring that day.
Note: these are not my abs. Or my tiger stripe extensions.
Because sometimes it feels like, you know, you’re not just saying goodbye to a shirt, you’re saying goodbye to being the kind of girl who could wear that shirt.
I read a book once where the author reminisced about something bold her younger self had done and thought, “Who was I then, and why can’t I be her anymore?”
Why can’t I be her anymore? I’ll admit to having had that thought countless times. But I think what we often overlook when we’re swept up in nostalgia is that who we become is most often better than who we were.
Yes, I had a lot of fun in that flouncy skirt and halter top when I was 20…but I was also kind of dumb. I’m glad I’m not that dumb now. And I’m glad my “going out” shirts are no longer made of questionable, highly flammable “fabrics” and that I own jeans cut for an actual adult woman’s body. It’s just a better, more fire-safe situation all around.
It’s okay to cling a little, though. I’ll never get rid of my dorm sweatshirt from my first year of college which on the back says “…damn right, it’s better than yours” – yes, from the iconic “Milkshake” song of 2004. I wear it at home as a cozy little reminder of those good times, and okay, maybe I even sing the song when no one’s around. But when it’s time to leave the house? I toss it aside and put some real clothes on.
As for the belly button ring? When I was 26 I had to take it out to get an MRI and never had any desire to put it back in. Progress, people.
Are your twenties a joke...? 