#43 WLFC Used To Be Young
My defiant feminist of times past would be SHOOK. Belated birthday reflections and the life I want these days that shocks the hell out of me.
Apparently I was on the same frequency as Miley Cyrus.
This week I shared on Instagram a post about my 20’s versus my 30’s. How I used to chase after freedom only to yearn for stability these days.
Then Miley blesses the world with her hit single “Used To Be Young.”
I sat on the couch and cried watching the music video. Actually, I’m here now writing this to you and those tears just happened.
These days I cry privately a lot behind the scenes. I think three years of trauma has officially caught up to me in a very real way and after the tumultuous summer I had with my breakup, I feel like one more push in the wrong direction and I could completely lose my shit and sign off Instagram for a very long time. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
I’m not trying to sound depressing, and my life really isn’t all bad, it’s just a lot.
I’m quite nostalgic recently, which I think is normal when it feels like you’ve been through the ringer, and well, I used to be young. Not that I’m old, but I am older.
Although no one thinks I’m over 26, I turned 33 on August 13th and at this point in my life, stability is the name of the game for me. It’s my biggest yearning. A kink even.
Because freedom without stability isn’t that free.
To my free spirits, do you get me?
This love letter is a birthday reflection and musing on the girl I was and the woman I’m stepping into much to my shock and surprise. Apparently I’m ready to be the homemaker my defiant feminist of times past fought so hard not to be. But keep her spicy.
On Sunday August 13th, I went to the beach with two of my besties, Alex and Jodi, and watched a pink sunset. It was my 33rd birthday, my Jesus year, as they say, and there were dolphins jumping, donuts on a pitch black beach, roses with prayers thrown into the ocean, and four meteors raining blessings over us.
It was so enchanting.
“Can I hold you hands?” I asked.
I cried tears of gratitude and made a wish on a shooting star.
And the night before? It was fun and sloppy and dancey. I flashed everyone all night because my top made me into a t-rex, but I would not be contained!
Oh well.
Alex had the DJ play Tyga’s “Rack City” in my honor and I ate the most gigantic slice of pizza at 1am.
In short, it was everything I wanted for my day. I was romanced by life, by my girlfriends. It was a weekend that seemed to encompass the wild Alyssa and the church going Alyssa. The young at heart me and the me wanting stability.
And I can’t help but sometimes feel that the version of Alyssa I’m becoming is somehow not what the world wants or expects from me.
I even find myself grieving “spicy Alyssa” as I call her. I used to tell N that. “I miss her. I don’t know where she is, but she’s not here right now.”
You know how they say you can’t bring certain parts of you into your next version of self? That’s kind of how it feels. While I know “spicy Alyssa” is still in there, she isn’t who I need right now predominately.
She was a yes woman. She was fun. She was the life of the party who kissed a lot of boys. She was shameless and unapologetic. Shakin her ass on Instagram.
But can I tell you a secret?
I’m ready to be a homemaker, wife, and mama.
I want to be a devoted slut to one man, the father of my children.
I want to wear dresses around the house, take my children to church, and read the Bible with my Godly husband.
I want to cook for them and hang laundry in the South Carolina hot air.
I want to take off the entrepreneur hat and feel cared for by my husband.
I want a man who can respect this traditional role and still see me as his equal.
I want to take care of my home and family while writing and podcasting on the side.
I know, I know, it shocks even me!
My feminist of years past is giving me the side eye.
All those years of breaking out of the 9-5. Wanting to work for myself. Quitting grad school for a yoga career. Not wanting to be a mom. Refusing to comply with “normal.” Determined to own the title “black sheep” of the family.
None of it was wrong and I still am the weird one of the fam, but looking back, it was laced in rebellion because I didn’t feel free. It was a bit of a middle finger to the patriarchy.
Now that I’m 33, I realize that freedom is a state of mind. A birthright by God that cannot be taken away.
I look back now and sigh a bit.
Years of chasing led to years of trauma that I couldn’t have seen coming.
And now all I need, all I yearn for is STABILITY.
So, I sit here feeling the pull towards a woman I never wanted to be while grieving the liberated, free spirited woman I’ve always been. Not because I think she’s dead and gone, but because she’s no longer conducive to my heart and soul’s needs.
She doesn’t need to be leading anymore.
And to be honest, it scares the hell out of me to admit that because I’ve built a brand with that woman. That woman entices people. Inspires people. Is alluring.
And I get it!
The wild feminine heart is mesmerizing in her brave, gorgeous defiance and expression.
But at least for me, Lilith is transforming into Eve. Perhaps two sides of the SAME coin?
All the Cancer in my chart is finally catching up to me, and I can hear the disgust when an astrologer in my early 20’s told me it would be a shame if I never became a physical mother. At the time I resisted it because it felt like entrapment, like putting me in a box. As the chainbreaker of the family I was emboldened to do it different. And I have. And I will continue to do so.
I believe I will parent differently.
How could I not?
And perhaps this is one of the greatest realizations. That just because I become a wife and mother, doesn’t mean I stop being Alyssa. To anyone out there like me, we will parent differently. I just know it.
But what are missing out on simply for the sake of defiance?
Are you a rebel without a cause?
So as I sit here on my parents couch, one week after into moving out of my beloved apartment that was the first place I ever lived alone and my home during and post my divorce, I’m reminded that once again, I’m grieving.
I’m grieving, I’m grateful, and I’m in anticipation of the next phase of my life.
Here’s a little fill in the blank for you that would make a great journaling prompt or topic of discussion: When I was younger I used to chase _____now all I yearn for is_____.
And here’s a little Miley to bring it home.
I know I used to be crazy
Messed up, but, God, was it fun
I know I used to be wild
That's 'cause I used to be young
Those wasted nights are not wasted
I remember every one
I know I used to be crazy
That's 'cause I used to be young
You tell me time has done changed me
That's fine, I've had a good run
I know I used to be crazy
That's 'cause I used to be young
