Washed Up: The Changing Tide of Being Past 30


People always give me a little chuckle when I say that I’m washed up. But I AM, and I think that they’re just being nice. My life was quite eventful some years back, and I found myself with so much to share and write about when I initially began this blog. There was quirk, passion, sass and wit in my prior blog posts and I loved every bit of it. It was fun, but it was also messy. So then things changed and I got madd boring. #washed

I mean, I’ve just turned 21 for the 11th time not that long ago, and although things have been gradually changing, I finally feel like I am peaking with this change. I began sliding quietly in to my 30s when I was 27 years old; that’s when something switched off inside of me. Gently and curiously, I stopped caring.

It was a shift in focus from dwelling on the small things and a drive toward tackling what was larger. It was a move to an auto-pilot state of being that would allow for me to tackle some of the major goals I had at the time. There was a mental rejection of anything seriously emotionally taxing. It meant that, although I recognized the feelings of others, I couldn’t prioritize them above what I needed to do for myself, and so I kept my circle small. The less people I had to keep track of, the better. Of course, in this, I totally stopped speaking to perfectly fine people. Some of whom I truly love. It just wasn’t suitable for my well-being to manage these relationships. That is also why I was single.

I ran fast and hard to make things happen. My new job, finishing school and my personal responsibilities made me all but disappear. Life was intense, and free time so sacred, that I became ultimately stingy with sharing it. I just couldn’t consume everyone’s energy or problems while I was working to push all emotion out so I could focus on my goals. I grew increasingly quiet and would often go missing for days (sorry family). I gave up certain social media accounts because the consistent negative energy from strangers was overwhelming. I stopped with the late night life altogether and generally avoided crowds and noisy establishments. Just couldn’t take it. I needed my non-stop brain to keep every possible peaceful moment it could. The constant analysis I performed on myself developed in to a complete self-reflection, with everything turned inward. I pulled the plug, I killed the noise.

It was pertinent for my success. And now that I’ve crossed a couple of finish lines, I’m trying to reintegrate in to a more social world, but I find myself reluctant. Every now and then a swell of passion bubbles up but it manifests through my love of social science and liberal politics and not through a desire to be social. It’s just that I’ve exhausted so much time working, that I’m enjoying remaining in hiding. I’m often spending my quiet moments mainly with myself and wherever else there’s a high-level of effortlessness. I’m unapologetic for it. We may not be able to control all of the external factors that impact our lives but we can work to control the status of ourselves internally, and I choose peace.

So I’ll own being washed up. Because the crashing waves and choppy waters of my life are slowing down to wading pool status; and I’m emerging, hands clean.


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