I have recently noticed that some of my self image is stuck the way I was about 5 years ago rather than reflecting my life now. For instance, I think of myself as a singer. But the last time a sang seriously was in college. Since then I’ve periodically helped my mom with her church choir but now prettly much the only singing I do is singing along with the radio. I keep meaning to find a choir around here and get back in training but I never have. I also think of myself as a fencer. But again the last time I was serious about it was college. I’ve fenced at local clubs for a few months at a time but the last time was a couple of years ago. Again, I keep meaning to get back into it but when I have the time I don’t have the money and when I have the money I don’t have the time.
Some stuff doesn’t really change of course. I’m still a straight, female, former Mormon who’s training to be a doctor and loves to read. But I’ve found that my self image is a mixture of things I really am and things I wish I still was.
Not exactly in the same way but I always see myself as younger looking than I am. I recently had a photographer take some performance photos of me and I’m shocked/apalled to realize that I have developed jowls, a waddle and thighs the size of small cities.
For you to realize this in your teen years shows a lot of maturity, methinks. Well, to me anyway. I never could step out of myself long enough to look at…er…myself impassively back then.
And yes, my timeview is warped, too. I still think of myself as a dance and always will. I still practice, but the last time I performed was over 10 years ago. And some of it is self-confidence. I still fear I will blurt something out without thinking even though I rarely say anything without thinking it thoroughly these days.
I was appalled recently to realize that I’m 10 years on from my years as a high school athlete. (Swim team, if you’re interested) Nowadays the most exercise I get is running after the bus.
Just this weekend, I pulled myself into a formal gown and tiara! and thought I Look Goooood.
Then I saw the pictures.
Holy crap.
I ain’t 26 and firm anymore.
And I ain’t going to go on a mad diet and work out regiem to make the upper arms not look like ham hocks either. All that exercise for 6 hours of preening. I’d rather wear the body armor and Fat Control Devices Of Pure Misery.
I’m just going to get a dress with longer sleeves the next time. (Which is in March that I have to break out the tiara again.)
When I went to my 30th reunion, I thought I looked pretty good for an old broad. I found I didn’t look NEARLY as good as most of the other old broads. It was a rude awakening. Time marches on. And it’s wearing combat boots and marching on my face. And I’m pretty pissed off about it…
Well, I’m going through my 20’s for the third time and I think I’m getting better at it. Though something tells me this is my last go around with this particular decade.
I had that problem until, I think, my junior year of college. When I thought of myself, the image I had in mind was me at… I’m not even sure what age. Maybe 12-14. I think it was a lack-of-self-esteem thing, and I did get over it with some concentration.
I told someone I was 16 last week. I’ve been 21 since August. I’ve no idea what made me to say that – I like being old enough to vote and go into any part of a restaurant I want. The worst part was that after I said that, I had to figure out how many years 1984 was from 2005. I obviously have lost some very important part of my brain recently.
I just tried doing pull-ups since I’ve gained 40 healthy lbs and it’s much different for sure.
Also, I was known as a promising artist when I was young but I’ve since let that go. It is good to see that my kids can draw exceptionally well for their age group but it doesn’t make me stand up to what I could’ve been.
For kicks I pulled out an old notebook full of drawings and tried to copy them. To my surprise I did pretty well but cultivating that talent has long since passed my by.
oh hell yeah. 6-7 years ago I was a pretty good wallyball player. Last night I subbed on my BIL’s wallyball league. He explained the rules, I told him confidently that I knew the rules, etc etc, and proceeded to play.
So, not only do I suck at wallyball now, but I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller. And I work out 2 - 4 times per week and stuff…
Ain’t it the truth. I just had my 57th birthday, but I still picture myself in my late 20’s / early 30’s. I think it’s an internal defense mechanism to help us keep up a good self-image.
Ugh!
I’m 35 going on 36 and I have to hear the sports media comment every day on how “old” people like Brett Favre (36), or Andre Agassi (35) are and how amazing it is that these guys are still competing and how they should be retired at their age.
I keep stumbling over these kind of moments lately, and it’s starting to eat at me.
Biggest one was a few years ago. Mind you, I swam competitively my entire childhood–breaststroke and freestyle. I swam almost before I could walk. Swam in HS (but hated it and only did JV and quit after one season).
But still I called my inner self a “swimmer” with broad shoulders etc. Hubris, baby.
Went to an end of spring season soccer party at a local pool. This aqua center has 4 pools. There is a narrow lap pool set away from the kiddie stuff–very nice.
It was me and a very bored, haughty looking life guard (and no, she wasn’t that cute). I dove in, thinking I would swim a few laps–breaststroke or crawl.
Ha–bitter-ha.
I was gasping less than halfway across. I could barely haul my sorry ass out of the water. I was doing aerobics at the time and thought I was in better shape than almost ever before. Bosh. Haughty looking teen lifeguard just intensified the embarassment.
Then there was the time years ago when I decided to show my young daughter how to do a cartwheel…cartwheels hurt your wrists like hell.
but right now, I am trying to find what 43 is supposed to “look like” for me. I probably should get one of those “I’m middle aged and don’t mess with me” helmet hairdos, but I just can’t. My hair is now down to my bra strap and wending its way further south. I don’t want to look like a hippy freak, either, so… Revanant --bravo on your insight!
Yikes! Just this past Saturday in Target. Tried on a pair of junior jeans in the dressing room and got to see my backside in the convenient double mirrors. :eek: (The mirrors are floor to ceiling, see, and I hadda look down to find my backside, see, and…oh…nevermind!)
My goodness, yes. For years they said “wait till your mid-20’s and your metabolism will change in a big way.” I am shocked to no end when I look into a mirror and see fat rolls. My god, I’m not a person with fat rolls! So I went on a diet last Friday and am pleased to see that now I have 3 fat rolls instead of 4. But they still always really surprise me.
