elizabethlevett

I have a couple of young girl pals. They are twelve or thirteen, in middle school. They are smart and beautiful and funny and brave. I love spending time with them and talking about their favorite songs.

I remember being twelve or thirteen. It’s that in-between age. Not young anymore. Not old enough yet for certain things. With so many questions and so many hopes. Nothing about the workings of your body or your emotions or the world makes a lot of sense. I knew a little bit about some things and almost nothing about most things. But I knew what I liked and I tried to be honest. People who loved me told me I was smart and beautiful and funny and brave. I mostly wanted everyone around me to be nice and get along and do the right thing. I mostly wanted to wear badass boots and meet musicians. I mostly wanted to be outside or read a good book or spend time with someone I loved and talk about my favorite songs.

Lately it feels like I’ve entered a different sort of adolescence. Another in-between age. Older definitely than badass. Younger than stinky, assisted living. Older than seriously sexy. Younger than somehow sexless. Older than constant hunger, younger than constantly sleeping. You see what I mean. There’s a great deal of effort that goes into being part of the truly relevant generation. I’m noticing that I’m sort of on the wane in that regard. I don’t mind. It can be pretty exhausting. I’m even noticing that I’m sometimes not even noticed. Not that I mind, but the first few times you walk up to a stranger at a garage sale and ask about that floor lamp with the cool carvings or the cute cream pitcher and they walk right past you, mid-sentence, to address someone younger, it’s a touch unnerving.

Yes, I was pissed when I started getting mail from AARP. Who do they think they are? Their mailings offer that “handy” free shoulder bag – so roomy – what, so I can carry a change of underwear and directions back to my house in case I forget the way?! Come on, I can still carry a guitar amp, people! But I have to admit they do have some interesting articles at times. Oh no, I said it. I do have to read up on cardio vascular health and the best states to retire to. It’s true. No sense in fighting it. But it’s just that it’s not quite here yet. It’s not time yet for corrective footwear and a hearing aid.

But it is time, high time, to find the dance again in one of those blessed in-between spaces. Like in junior high. Not young anymore. Not old enough yet for certain things. With so many questions and so many hopes. Nothing about the workings of my body or my emotions or the world makes a lot of sense. I know a little bit about some things and almost nothing about most things. I do know what I like and I try to be honest. I try to be smart and beautiful and funny and brave. I mostly want everyone around me to be nice and get along and do the right thing. I mostly want to be outside or read a good book or spend time with someone I love and talk about my favorite songs. Time to get new soles on my badass boots and go pick up a guitar amp. Besides, I already have a floor lamp and a couple of cute cream pitchers anyway.