Self-acceptance
I remember, as a teenager, reading some fashion magazine’s feature on Cameron Diaz in which she said it was such a relief to turn 30, that all the self-doubt and questioning quieted down and she could really just accept who she was, or she knew who she was, or something, I’m paraphrasing. This is, in my opinion, a celebrity trope. They always say 30 is so much better than younger-than-30 for various reasons: career taking off, affording a trainer, better roles, more money, and always less self-doubt. Also, it’s a great reframe, so much better to be happy about aging than not. Not that they aren’t happy about it. I’m happy about it. I love being an adult. People learn things in their twenties and a lot of them are about accepting who they are, no longer apologizing for their tastes, beliefs or desires. But here’s my question: what if something shouldn’t be accepted? Like my very real desire to get television trays. Maybe that desire should fill me with enough self-doubt that I resist it. We eat at the table, often even, but a few nights a week (several, many?) we eat in front of the television. I don’t feel that sad about it. I try to be mindful of the Sriracha stir-fry I am enjoying as I watch The New Girl (tell me you love it, I love it). I’m not a not a vacant, quinoa-shoveling-sad-television-watching zombie. See, I own it? I’m not making excuses, I’m 28 and proud of who I am. But buying something to rest my plate on when I own a dining room table (I built it actually, stay tumblring) feels like gilding the dining option lily. However, in our new place (we moved) the coffee table is soooooo far away from the couch and so I end up doing a weird lean or balancing my plate on my knees which is dangerous for the ivory rug (what did I think would happen with an ivory rug) and bad for my back. So, do I accept this? Do I say, I know what I like and it’s vaguely reminiscent of hospital and airplane dining? Just let all that self-doubt go bother women in their early 20s? Or do I go eat at the table? Like an adult.
-Bridget
LOOK HOW FAR AWAY IT IS. I was watching Grimm and eating soup. Now you know everything.
