Welcome Back to the 1950s Folks!

Last weekend, my partner’s parents came for a visit. They were not staying in our home, but they did want to see it. Now, normally I am pretty obsessive about cleaning and organizing our home when people visit. I want them to see US as organized, well put-together, and classy(ish). With his parents in town, I saw the lack of perfection as a reflection of ME, like I was not tending OUR home properly. It was like I believed that his mother would see the dirt and find fault with me. Even though his mother is a really nice person who would never think that. It was all me, you guys. ALL ME. I was the one putting pressure on myself and stressing out over figment judgments and non-existent blaming. It is amazing how quickly we get thrown back into the 1950s when people’s parents are in town.

  

How fucked up is that? What the hell happened? What is it about partner’s parents that amp up the anxiety? And why did I go straight for traditional gender roles, which my partner and I do not typically live in? Bah!

  

Clearly, society has a lot to do with this. We still live in an age where girls are taught to tend the house, and boys are taught to take care of the lawn. People continue to view women’s roles as sandwich creators and homemakers. We are still supposed vacuum and dust and decorate, even in a dual income household. And who the heck wants to be responsible for all of that in a family of two, four, eight, or twenty? Obviously, women (and men) are making strides, and we have a long way to go. AS EVIDENCED BY MY MINI FREAK OUT THIS WEEKEND.

Has this ever happened to you? How did you talk yourself down? (For me, it took a lot of self-chatting and reminding that this is OUR house and OUR responsibility.) 

- Lauren, recovering 1950s housewife throwback

Happy 29th Birthday to Me! Yeah, I said it. 29!

This week, I was inspired by a recent article by Mandy Standtmiller on XO Jane about embracing our age instead of hiding it. She talked a lot about how, socially, a woman’s worth is tied to how young she is perceived to be. If she wants to be relevant, then she needs to come across as vibrant and hip and cool and youthful. This has led to a lot of kick ass women lying about their age and downplaying their experience. In her article, Mandy points out how unacceptable and ridiculous that is, and I agree with her. Fuck that noise! 

I turn 29 years old on Friday, and I am PROUD OF IT. You know what? I am awesome no matter what age I am. We all are. With each year, I learn several new things about myself. Surprises and twists and turns have come along with my age. I always pick myself up, dust myself off, and carry on. I am worth it.

So I am ready, and you should join me. Let’s do this. Let’s celebrate our real age, and let’s do it fantastically in our own ways. Because no one has the right to tell us that we are worthless, obsolete, old spinsters with nothing left to give. Suck it society. I am twenty-freaking-nine and proud of it. WHAT?!

Here is the perfect song for the ridiculousness:

 

-          Lauren, reveler in her age and encourager of others to do the same