It’s become very clear to me that I am currently living as both a 15 and a 41 year old woman at the same time.  I’m not going to say I’ve regressed because I truly believe that I have not yet been through this stage of development – I’m visiting it for the first time in many ways!

I knew when I started this blog that talking about the “Girl in the Mirror” was the right way to put it.  I’m not sure I could have said why, exactly, but folks have asked why I’m saying girl and, I think, concerned that I’m not giving myself credit as a grown woman.  I actually see it as somewhat the opposite.  As I shoved away painful parts of adolescence – namely, my weight and the whole world of attraction and relationship – I seized on growing up quickly in other areas.  I was a rock-solid friend and emotional pillar.  I developed a leadership style, a work ethic, a cultural outlook.  In my 20s, I fell up the career ladder at the University of Maryland.  I taught an honors class in leadership and developed a full set of consulting and facilitation skills.  I looked at the world of opera and made decisions to go in my own direction, lining up with my own way of contributing to the world.  I got a grip on my finances, well, after graduate school!   I paid attention to retirement savings.  I am the worldly friend.  The wise friend.  The one with great advice and, oh, so balanced.  I give myself plenty of credit as a woman.

I have not ever given the 15 year old any credit and barely any time to do the things that 15 year olds do.  I have not flailed around in the throws of emotion.  I have not acted impulsively or selfishly.  I have not felt lost or naive or innocent or incompetent.  There was no sowing of wild oats.  There was not even a casual scattering of oats.  In fact, I’m pretty sure that I was decidedly in denial that I was in possession of any oats.

So, imagine my surprise when this hurt and confused 15-year-old comes roaring out of me a year ago and starts demanding and flailing around in my perfectly crafted 41-year-old life.  At first, I shoved and ridiculed and railed against her.  I didn’t give her any credit or any time.  But she was not going to be denied.  And it was my veil of control and maturity that made it impossible for her to be heard.  So she had to shout…at me and, through me, at the people that I love.  And she wreaked havoc on my body and on my heart.  And she got her way.  And I, the 41-year-old, have had to try to make sense of the mess that she made, live my adult life as best as can through it all, and find ways for her to be here and have a voice while she needs it.  So, my current thinking is that it’s best to be in conversation with this 15-year-old rather than at war with her.  My parents probably have some fabulous advice about that.

About when I was 15 (or somewhere in there), I pulled a chair out from under Amy Wellington – a girl that I was becoming friends with.  It was a stupid prank and meant to be funny and, instead, I found that I had been hurtful and mean.  Amy (and her parents) were angry and our friendship stopped there.  I was so confused that it had happened that way – and dismayed and sorry.  And I didn’t really have words (except to apologize) to explain why I thought it would be funny.  It certainly seemed ridiculous when I went to explain it.  These are things that 15-year-olds do.  And it’s way harder to find myself in the same position as a grown woman without words (except sorry) to explain how I pulled the chair out from underneath us.  But I understand that my 15-year-old needs to go through some awkward, insecure, flailing stages.  Everyone needs to go through their stages or they won’t ever fully grow.  And I understand that not having things so perfectly, maturely, wrapped up is a much more authentic (and, actually…MATURE, by definition) way to live.

That doesn’t mean that it’s any easier…and especially on the days when I don’t really LIKE my 15-year-old self.  I think, however, that I’ve heard many many parents say how much they love their teenagers even on the days that they don’t like them.  And she does need a whole heap of love right now.  And I’ve got to be first in line to give it.