Nobody Has Time to be Anything Less Than Themselves

If you’re not into sports (or haven’t lived in NE Ohio at any point in your life), you may not know that the NBA championship just ended the other day in a historic game 7. In case you’re unaware, to win any round of the playoffs a team has to win 4 games. In no point in the history of the world has a team been down 1 game to 3 in the NBA finals and then turned around and win the championship. That is until this year. The super amazing Cleveland Cavaliers managed to be the first team ever to do this! AND it was the first time a professional sports team from Cleveland has won a title in 52 years. This is a huge fucking deal to those of us from the northeastern corner of the Buckeye state.

I can wax on for pages about how epic this team is, how much I love LeBron James, and the significance of this win to all of northeast Ohio. But you can read a lot about all of that stuff on ESPN’s and Sports Illustrated’s websites.

Cavs #2, point guard Kyrie Irving

What I want to tell you about is the fucking awesome post-game interview by Cavs point guard Kyrie Irving. He’s a young guy – only 24. His team made it to the finals last year, but he had to sit out because of an injury (and his being out was part of the reason they didn’t win). At the beginning of the interview, you could tell he was a little overwhelmed by the moment and fumbled a little. He was asked what sort of understanding he may have developed after a specific regular-season game. His response: “I understood that I didn’t have time to be anything less than myself.” He went on to talk about how he realized he no longer could listen to what the media had to say about him as a player and what sort of player he needed to be for his team and put his focus inward. He said he talked to his mentor (LeBron), his coach (Tyron Lue), and NBA finals veterans and got the words of advice and encouragement that he needed to move forward. All the media outlets (and I’m sure all the fans) had an answer for what the Cleveland Cavaliers had to do and the team needed to tune it all out and take it one play at a time.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because, regardless of how you feel about basketball, that is some profound shit. None of us have time to be anything less than ourselves. Seriously. I could spend all day long listening to what everyone else has to say about how I “should” dress, what I “should” eat, how I “should” act. If I went looking for opinions about how to live my life, I will find an endless amount of ways to “should” on myself courtesy of the media, people in my life, complete strangers...

If I decide to take this delightful path, there are a few issues that would pop up, namely because nobody agrees on what everyone “should” do.

•      What should I wear today? Well, depending on what magazine I read, I’ll get a dozen different suggestions. The fashion “do” and “don’t” lists are endlessly long and often conflict. Plus, if you’re over a certain age (like me – 4 decades of awesome), the media makes it pretty clear there’s NOTHING you “should” wear other than a big paper bag. But god forbid I go naked, because it’s been made very clear that nobody wants to see that shit on an “old” person.
•      What should I eat? Depends on the day. Remember when you heard that if you eat “real” butter, you’d drop dead on the spot from a heart attack? But now they say a bite of margarine is probably going to cause cancer. Same type of reports have gone on forever with pretty much everything we like: eggs, chocolate, coffee, meat, wine, anything containing fat grams…
•       How should I act? Act my age, right? Whatever the fuck that means. It appears that to appropriately act my age, I have to get more boring and have less fun with each passing year. Adults should go to work, pick up the dry cleaning, cook healthy dinners, do taxes, watch the news, and get to bed at a reasonable hour. All the other fun stuff occurs when you’re 21 or under. What if I want to go on all the rides and have my picture with the princesses at Disneyland, is this really just for my kids? I happen to like lollipops and bicycle rides and unicorns and writing on the sidewalk with colorful chalk.

So basically, I can spend a butt-ton of time figuring out how other people thing I should live my life and feel miserable the entire time. What’s the alternative? Being myself. I really don’t have time for the rest of that crap. As Kyrie said – “I don’t have time to be anything other than myself.”

I’d also be miserable as fuck and my brain would totally overcircuit and explode (it's come close to happening before). Remember all that stuff Kyrie said about taking it one play at a time? Oh yeah. That’s even harder for me to do than try to tune out all the "should"s. 

I’m eternally in the future, trying to figure out the next 20 years of my life at any given moment. At 5:00 am I get up and take a walk. I start to think about what is coming next...what I’m going to wear, what the kids are going to wear, what’s for breakfast, when we need to leave to get the kids to school on time so I can be to work on time, what should I bring for lunch, or should I buy lunch, do I have enough extra money to buy lunch, what time is that meeting, did I turn the coffee maker on yet, do I need to stop at the store on the way home for food to cook for dinner, did the kids do their reading last night, if they didn’t they have to read double tonight, reading skills are critical for their future education and I want them to get into a good college so they can have as many career opportunities as possible available to them, did I put gas into the car, did I put gas into the other car so I don’t leave my husband on empty, did I wash my favorite jeans so I can wear them today, how hot is it going to be, do I need a jacket, does my husband have to work this weekend, if he’s off can I get a sitter, it’s important for us to get some alone time so our marriage doesn’t crumble to bits, I want it to last forever, I hope I’m having enough money taken out of my check for retirement so we can retire comfortably…

Wait, where was I? Oh that’s right, it’s 5 am and I’m up the street from my house walking my dog. Let’s start there. I’ll focus on one play at a time – the current play is enjoying a walk with the world’s greatest dog while watching the sun rise. STOP. That’s it. The only thing I’m going to focus on at this moment.

Like Kyrie, I’ve talked to mentors and folks who have walked my path before. Nobody has said: “Jeez Shan, make sure you read all the fashion magazines and wear what they tell you, regardless of whether or not you like what the clothes look like or how you feel in them. Also, make sure to eat what the people on the news tell you. I know they said last week not to touch an egg a 10-foot-pole, but today they’re healthy. So regardless of whether not you actually LIKE them, that’s what you’re eating today. And kale. That’s big right now. And make sure you act like an adult – no shenanigans, lady. You’re an ADULT and that means be BORING!” 

The people who I’ve asked have said things like: 

• “Nobody else’s opinion matters.” 
• “Those spandex leggings with cats flying through space look AWESOME on you!” 
• “I never felt sexier than the day I turned 40.” 

I’m going with their suggestions rather than those people who keep “should”ing on me.

P.S.: If you want to hear Kyrie’s full interview, here ya go: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nW-QiHwOhdA

P.P.S.: Oh, and today my kids and I ate a tiny “tree” comprised of 23 tiny ice cream cones. We saved a few for my husband. It was awesome. Take that those people who tell me to act my age!!!!

P.P.P.S.: I really do look awesome in those cats-flying-through-space leggings, see: 

Hello 40

I turned 40 a week and a half ago. How the fuck did that happen? Pretty sure the last time I checked I was like, 11. But whatever.

I actually feel pretty ready for this thanks to my friend Mary Charlotte. We worked together at my very first ever “real” job post grad-school. I was 23 and didn’t have much in the self-esteem department. I managed to complete my higher education with good grades, but I was often been prone to impostor syndrome (yes, it's actually a thing). You know, I’ll get some sort of success but deep down feel like I don’t deserve it. If “they” found out how little I really know, I would be exposed as the fraud I really am. That general sort of thing. Oh, and this came on the heels of some pretty severe anorexia as a teenager (more on that another time). You get the gist – hot mess.

So I had this job for which I felt completely unqualified and didn’t think too highly of myself. Enter Mary Charlotte – 39, confident, cool, smart, beautiful, etc. Seriously. She was once in a punk band. She and another co-worker, Vick (in her early 40s), were friends and, by some strange stroke of luck, they liked me enough to let me hang out with them. As archaeologists, our job took us throughout the state to survey and dig, so we had a lot of time to hang out.

As the three of us became better friends we spent more non-work time hanging out too. Some of my favorite memories are going to a concert featuring nothing but an array Apache hip hop bands (who knew, right?! The Apache community can seriously rock) and going to Mary Charlotte’s documentary film premier (she eventually ditched archaeology to pursue film). However, most of the time we hung out talking on MC’s porch. It didn’t take long for me to realize that the core of her strength/confidence/bad-assery (bad-assness?) was that she didn’t give a fuck about what anyone else thought of her or what she did. That concept was foreign to me, especially as I was starting a new career in a relatively new town while dating a hot new guy . I worried what others thought. I was afraid of making mistakes, sounding “stupid”, coming across as awkward and uncomfortable as I felt inside.

The day Mary Charlotte turned 40 I asked her how she felt. She looked me straight in the eye and said “Shannon, I’ve never felt sexier in my life.” What?! I remember when my mom turned 40. I was 12 and I thought she was ancient. Don't get me wrong, my mom is awesome, but just thought of anybody being FORTY seemed REALLY OLD. Those “Over the Hill” cards and gag gifts made a lot of sense to me – because it really seemed all downhill from there. It never occurred to me that it would be a pleasant experience. That you could feel BETTER about yourself then when you did as a young, fresh-faced 20-year-old. I see feeling good…but SEXY? SEXIER THAN EVER?????????? WTF?

All of a sudden 40 went from seeming like a death sentence to being freedom. Vick and MC thought it was hysterical that I was the only 23-year-old on the planet that couldn’t wait to be 40.

Flash forward a decade and a half and here I am – 40. That hot new guy has been my husband for 14 years. I’ve given birth to two babies. I changed jobs a few times but have been at the current one for 8 years. I’m a little bigger and grayer than I once was, but I get it. I get what MC meant. I know I’m not perfect and still have plenty of demons to face, but, little by little, I’m caring less what other people think. And It. Feels. Awesome.

I’m sick of society “shoulding” on me – telling me what I “should” do, how I “should” look, what I “should” eat.

What should I do? Whatever the fuck I want.
How should I dress? However the fuck I want.
What should I eat? Whatever the fuck I want.

I am slowly realizing that the key to feeling sexy is not about the size of my pants or the color of my hair or the smoothness of my skin. It comes from the freedom of not judging myself by others’ bullshit standards.  I’m ready to take a blowtorch to the “Over the Hill” section of the damn Hallmark store because here I am and have never felt more full of life and ready to take on new challenges (I owe my mom an apology).

Every time I DON’T give a fuck about what anyone else thinks, I get a little more freedom. Freedom feels sexy. Damn sexy. And it doesn't matter what you, or he, or that person over there thinks.

So here’s to 40. I’ve dubbed the next decade my “I Don’t Give a Fuck” 40s.  I can honestly say I’ve never felt sexier in my life.

Mary Charlotte – rest in peace.