Our Own Mile Markers...When Have You Felt Validated? A Look Back

In September we stood as a family at the 0 Mile Marker statue in the beautiful city of Richmond, Virginia.  It wasn’t the first time in my life I’ve noticed one of those signs capturing the distance from some point to another, but I wondered, who the heck really cares about the distance in miles? 

That gray, literal “milestone” in the heart of Richmond made me think of life’s journey.  What mile markers in our own lives stand out?  Can we take anything from those moments when we’ve felt like we arrived?  That we were validated? 

Recently an almost 60 year-old woman looked at me and asked, “Why do you have such a problem with 40?”  To be clear—I don’t have any issue turning 40 or being “Over the Hill.”  Every passing milestone/age carries its own weight.  I decided to map some of my own age markers when I truly felt older, looking back at significant years and their implications for me.  Maybe you can relate.

Age 9: It was the last year before double digits, which I’d be for the rest of my life.  I felt too old to wear pigtails.

13: A teenager.  Why was I the only 7^th grader without braces?  I’d have to wait until 9^th grade, way past their cool factor. 

16:  Sweet sixteen and never been kissed, that accurate sing-song cliché.  Couldn’t wait for my driver’s license and the freedom/responsibility along with it. 

18: High school graduation.  Knowing full-well that the special “John Hughes in my own mind” era was over and being excited about the college years ahead. 

21:  Fond memories of dear college friends celebrating a rite of passage that included some drinks laced with Bailey’s and amaretto liquor.

23:  Landing my first “real” job in Boston.  Switching to a Massachusetts driver’s license and car plates--thinking that I was all grown up because I did so.  Renting a 3^rd floor walk-up apartment in the Italian North End.  Monthly walks to the laundromat with my oversized duffel bag of dirty clothes.

25:  On my actual birthday I carried an extra bounce in my step because I thought that co-workers/clients would look at me and somehow read my “not just graduated from college age” on my face and treat me with more seriousness and respect.  

26:  Meeting my husband.  At a bar.  Technically it was a networking event.  Obviously we were networking for other reasons than drumming up business.

28:  Marrying.  Feeling very grown up dressed in ivory with a carefully made-up face and styled hair while helping my grandmother put on her stockings. 

30:  Becoming a mom.  At 5 AM requesting to see my daughter, (who spent the night in the nursery), just so I could look at her in awe, not believing I was now responsible for this completely dependent little person.

31:  Buying our first house—so excited to create a home. 

32:  Giving birth to my first son.  Note—I didn’t request to have his bassinet rolled into my room at 5 AM, instead opting for more rest.

33: Began teaching at the graduate level.  Loving the inspiration provided by my students and colleagues.

34: Meeting my always happy second son.

37: Treating my hospital stay and birth of my third son as a Bed and Breakfast retreat—bringing books to read and enjoying the peace and quiet—of a hospital—over the demands of being home. 

39:  Embarking on this blog to discover the joys and uncertainties of getting older.

What will 40 have in store, besides a slower metabolism?  Not sure yet.  But I encourage everyone, at any age, to look back with a sense of your own wonder at the significant steps, and perhaps missteps, you’ve taken to get to your current mile marker.  The distance traveled does matter.  It takes endurance, some heartbreak, joyous moments, real responsibility, some inertia, and lots of learning to grow older.  Write it down, look at old pictures, and celebrate your own journey. Age may be just a number—but remember, it all counts.