Today is my 50th birthday.
Lying in bed this morning, listening with pleasure to the lovely silvery sound of the falling rain, I found myself pondering an alarming dream from last night, where I had to save the life of a feral kitten from a thoughtlessly cruel acquaintance — a kitten I unwittingly handed over to him.
I consider what this dream is trying to tell me. Am I missing out on life’s wonder, due to an insistence it be clean and domesticated and tidy? Is there something waiting for me, soon to be found in my life travels, that will be life and death — that I will have to either protect or resuscitate? Do the thoughtlessly cruel acquaintance and the kitten signify something in my own Self, or something outside me? Why this dream, on this birthday eve?
I am 50 today. I wonder slightly at that. I have half a century of life experience under my belt now. I think back a bit, and have to smile. This is my time of life; a time where I’ve finally started truly liking and caring for who I am… a time where I’ve been laying aside protective but isolating personal armor… that I can see now I didn’t really need. It’s a time when I have finally confidently shed the false skin of “trying to be pretty to attract male attention” and “never pretty or good enough” that my culture believes I should wear.
I am who I am, and I am working toward who I want to be. I am proud of that. That person does not need to worry about whether or not men find me physically attractive, because I am already, to my Self. I have two kind and loving men in my life, and I choose to see my Self reflected in my own happiness. My Self knows she is — that I am — brilliant and beautiful, inside and out.
I think I may safely call myself a Crone now. :)