There are a lot of us out there blogging these days, and I’ve been learning to appreciate other people’s styles. I think a lot about how it is incredible anyone does this at all. It’s rather, as they say, “out there.”
I notice especially the difference in tone between women in their 20’s, 30’s, 40’s and beyond. There are even digital bumper stickers for blogs saying “I’m a 20-something Blogger” or “I’m a 30-something Blogger.” I didn’t really get it at first, but now I think it’s a road sign, a fair warning of where this woman is on her journey, so buckle that seatbelt gentle reader. You may be in for a wild ride.
It is not a matter of policy, but so far I don’t read 20-something blogs on a regular basis. I suppose I’m just so well past that phase that I don’t connect in real time. I do connect retroactively, and frankly it’s rather painful. Thus the non-read……. I respect what they are going through, but heavens, once is enough. My twenties felt a lot like being blindfolded and asked to drive a familiar car down an unfamiliar street. Exciting, dangerous, and clueless. From what I can tell, not much has changed. There is a hard edge to much of this writing, and I know why. They are earning it every day. It’s all a challenge, opening up in any way. I don’t think the vulnerability required by revelatory writing is appealing to most very young women; their writing is a protective shell, a striking back.
The 30-something bloggers are still relevant and lovely to me. They have that life-is-funny edge, but the life is FUN piece is getting smaller in the rearview mirror. They have this beautiful analysis in real time that is heartbreaking and touching and educational all at once.
Beyond the 30s, I read less real time analysis and more soulful reflection. There is less anger, more acceptance, and a coming to peace with self and the world that balances out the chaos of other decades. I don’t know when wisdom kicks in, but maybe the 40s are the foundation for getting there. It certainly seems like it when I read this group’s work.
Whoever you are, wherever you are, keep going.
4 comments:
In my twenties and thirties I kept wondering, "When am I going to be old enough to be taken seriously?" The forties are looking good for that.
You make me want to blog more intelligently and about more than just what I'm reading. A goal for summer vacation.
I'm fixin' to turn 50 and, frankly, looking forward to it. I had fun in my 20s, but was full of angst. My 30s were good. My 40s were fabulous. I expect the 50s to rock. Bette Davis, or someone just as iconic, said something like "at the age of 70, you can be exactly who you are, because at that age no one will give you a hard time." (that's a bad paraphrase, but I think I got the sentiment)
I don't understand this lamenting of the aging process. While I dislike the degradation of my body, the journey from there to here has been always interesting and often joyful. I expect that to continue.
Connie
Connie, I keep thinking about the body falling apart and thinking, "Except for that Mrs. Lincoln, what did you think of the play?" So funny. But I'm with you. Overall it seems to all be paying off in the grand scheme in rather incredible ways.
The one thing I'm seeing now with my own parents that is so hard is the inevitable loss of friends. My dad is about to turn 80, and every year he loses at least one dear friend. I'm thrilled for his longevity, yet I see the flip slide. If you live long enough, you are the one saying goodbye all the time, and it is not easy.
Thannks for sharing this
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