The other day, I explained to my 9-year-old what a colonoscopy was. I told her about the prep. About pooping all your insides out. About the burn of the medicine from the IV as they put you to sleep, all so they can stick a tube up your butt and take a peek inside.
“But you don’t feel that,” I said about the tube, really selling it. “And when you wake up, it’s like you had the most restful night’s sleep ever!”
“Will I ever need to do that?” she asked.
“Everyone does, when they grow up,” I said.
“Now I really don’t want to be an adult!” she wailed.
***
I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of showcasing the benefits of adulthood. Menstruation, pregnancy, childbirth: Em wants nothing to do with any of it. Having to work every day: Em thinks it’s boring. When I go out to see my friends, I joke that I’m having an adult play date (which—I realize as I type this out—sounds like a euphemism for a sex party). Emily has declared this boring, too, because instead of playing, we just sit there, sipping wine, talking about things that are completely irrelevant to her life.
Yes, adulthood can be tedious. Exhausting. An endless cycle of drop-offs and pickups and paperwork and various other responsibilities.
Just this morning, my laptop died and I very melodramatically lamented to my husband that, “my god, I just want one day where things aren’t urgent.”
But at 43, I also feel like I’ve been having so much fun lately (see: the long-ass section on things that were Necessary for My Sanity This Past Month).
I’ve been exploring this dichotomy in my work lately. The fact that as you grow older, you face two possible paths: one of expansion and one of contraction. For women, especially—living in a culture that does not systemically support aging women—it can be difficult to expand. All the messaging with which we’re bombarded seems designed to make us contract. To be invisible. To make our lives smaller at the expense of those around us.
What might happen if we ignored that messaging? If we tried new things? If we put ourselves first, at least sometimes? If we were just unapologetically us?
I’m playing around with that. Just here and there. When I can. But, like, on the regular.
Because sure, colonoscopies are the worst.
But life also feels filled with possibility now. And I think it’s because I’m finally comfortable in my own skin.
- Steph :)
On the Internets
Many of today’s links are all about women’s health, so let’s start with the most overarching bit of news: Biden signed an executive order that would boost research around women’s health across the lifespan, which encompasses everything from maternal health to menopause.
A lot of recent news around abortion access has focused on medication abortion. CVS and Walgreens plan to start filling prescriptions for mifepristone. Here’s more on why that’s so important. Meanwhile, I am all about the idea of making medication abortion available on college campuses. And finally, the news we were all waiting on: A majority of the Supreme Court leaned toward rejecting a bid to limit access to abortion pills.
The first over-the-counter birth control pill is hitting store shelves.
[tw: transphobia, bullying, suicide] Despite the good news above, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the death of Nex Benedict. Benedict was a high school sophomore who died in early February after he was beaten by three bullies. Reports are calling it a suicide, and no criminal charges are being filed. Family—and LGBTQ+ advocates—are calling for an independent investigation into Benedict’s death. This story makes me so fracking angry.
Everything I Accomplished Despite Life
After a content hiatus at Feminist Book Club—necessary as we’ve worked toward transitioning into a worker-owned cooperative—I’ve done up a post for them on how to hone your activist identity.
I also went deep on organizing your TBR, for Book Riot.
Necessary for My Sanity This Past Month
One of my clients sent me a sticker pack with which to pretty up my laptop, and I am getting such a kick out of them.
I met a friend at Barnes & Noble one night to see TJ Klune speak about his work, and he was the most delightful person ever.
I took a writing workshop on hermit crab essays, and I logged out with a ton of fun ideas.
I wrote two short horror pieces which, as a nonfiction writer, is a thing I didn’t think I could do, even though I’ve loved horror my entire life.
I experienced the deep satisfaction that comes with finishing a jigsaw puzzle.
I embroidered a necklace and a pair of earrings, just to see if I could.
My choir director asked me to sing a solo at our spring concert. And sure, it’s only eight measures long, but the joy I felt at being asked was similar to the joy I felt at nailing that one-line solo in my high school production of The Music Man.
I also read some great genre fiction. The Great British Bump-Off by John Allison and Max Sarin—the team behind Giant Days—was a humorous murder mystery in graphic novel form. I am such a fan of Sarin’s artwork. And in the realm of horror, I really enjoyed Marcus Kliewer’s We Used to Live Here (out in June) and Ronald Malfi’s They Lurk.
Way to sell the colonoscopy, Steph! 😂Although seriously I’m so glad you are normalizing it for her. My mom died of colon cancer a dozen years ago and now I get them every 5 years because I’m high risk. And re: the 40s, I felt I was really hitting my stride in that decade. Although now that I’m on the second half of the 50s I’m like, “wait, slow down, I haven’t done all the stuff I thought I would have accomplished by now!”