There is a bittersweet irony to looking as young as I do. Despite my 33 years on this planet, I often am mistaken for a teenager. Imagine that!First, shout-outs go to my Mom for passing on her chipmunk cheeks and to my Dad for giving me that china doll round face. Indeed, I come from a strong and hearty stock of smooth skinned, virtually hairless and ageless Africans! I have inherited the "fountain of youth"
Unfortunately, there is a down side to looking so young and not just getting carded at nightclubs. Ever so often I have to open up a can of whupass and curse out someone who understandably but still mistakenly thought I was a "young person" and because of that felt they were free to talk down to me or berate me...or cast me aside for second class treatment.
This weekend, parading about with the boys at various festivals and events, I got a couple of the usual judgmental stares and gawks from people who I guess assume I am a young inexperienced mother who gave birth too soon. The pity. The tsk tsking. They show on the assailants' pursed lips, shifty squinted eyes... their double-takes and head to foot scans. If I wasn't strong, the stress from being so judged by a stare would knock years off my life, chipping away at my fountain of youth. They're out to steal my fountain, said the schizophrenic.
Luckily for me, a magical thing happened to me when I turned 30! I lost the shy, passive insecure side of me that once used to let injustices, insults and negative hurtful comments fly. I grew some "cohones" and have set free my inner New Yorker. I am Guido and Diva, when I want. I am Rosie Odonell and Donald Trump on sugar free Red Bull.
My arsenal of retorts, sarcasm, attitude, wit and intellect end up having two effects:
(1) it surprises the heck out of the assailant because he/she/it was not expecting to get "it" from a "diminutive young kid" after all.
(2) it stunts them in their tracks, make em "wheeeeeel and come back" and "step to me"correctly, (eh hem, if I can poetically say so in my Jamaican patois and hip hop slang)
Only problem: Over the past three years of occasional mini-dialog from seemingly meaningless battles from (the lady at the store who accused me or wearing my jeans and returning them, the people who purposefully try to butt in line in front of me, the sales clerks who ignore me) my stance becomes asymmetrical as it is hard to stay strong and stand tall while a tumor- sized "chip" continues to grow on one's shoulder. "out out" blighted chip, out I say!
*Sigh* -- thus i
s life, what doesn't kill ya, makes you stronger, edgier, thicker skinned, right?hey gyal! wipe that smile off your face! toughen up! tee hee.
photo: a giddy and confident me at my 30th birthday party. 30s are the new 20s!
11 comments:
It's great when you are bless with good genes!
You go JJ! You look absolutely fabulous!!
Oooh, don't you feel like snarling when "older" people adopt that condescending attitude?
Have you got the "Hmph, babies having babies..." comment? I get that fairly often, but unfortunately, it's usually from those to whom I'm contractually bound to exhibit great diplomacy. Steups, no stoopid protocol could stop the stinging cut-eye that accompanies the very polite response and plastic smile, however. LOL
If you don't mind my asking, how tall are you, JJ?
thanks you guys are too kind.
*pose*..click ...*pose*...click click
LOL!
-:¦:-•cb *•-:¦:-, first, your online name cracks me up every time I see it, and 2nd, to answer your question, I am 5 foot 3...on a good day! That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
you look gaw-juss!!!!!!!!
thnx tanyetta! you're schweet!
5 foot 3 on a good day means what on bad days?? :)
I'd use the looking younger to my advantage big time. I'd get to hang out at the college bars and look all cool and stuff.
Well, if the 30's are the new 20's....then I better start havin' more fun ;)
slick, that means i've just finished elongating my posture afer a good my pilates work out...oh okay i confess and maybe i'll be wearing 1/2 inch heels! LOL!!
i live in a college town and the best of the perks is that whenever i need to run to the store, i can just roll out of bed wearing house slippers, grungy sweats and and ratty t-shirt cause I'll BLEND RIGHT in and looking so young, no one will notice the difference!
Okay, this happens to me too. Though I love looking young, I can't stand the "You must have had him at 12" statements. For some reason it makes me feel ashamed even though I know I will be turning 37 in July. I guess because of what it implies. If I get another, do your kids all have the same father question I will most definitely be purchasing a can of whupass from you.
traci, so you feelin' me on this one. A major PITA, no?
don't worry gurl, i got plenty of cans to share! LOL!
Lol! This post had me laughing. And yes, you do look young!
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