age crisis

The clock shows barely 9pm and I’m in bed in the sheets in the twilight thinking about tomorrow and asking myself again, who am I?

Am I a child? A stubborn, lazy, dependent, independent child? Am I an old woman? A wise, crabby, Mother Goose? Am I just some lady? Just Some Lady would be the easiest persona to live up to. But that’s not the role I naturally fall into. It’s not the role that I have the luxury of having.

Teacher = old lady

Mom = old lady 

Daughter = child

myself = …. child?

I need one me. One lady. One age.

I am meeting a young woman tomorrow, a woman just about young enough to be my daughter. And it’s strange because I didn’t feel as though this were a teacher/student arrangement until I thought of her age a few minutes ago. And when I had this thought a few minutes ago, I instantly went from peer to Mother Goose. And thus revived my identity crisis. My age crisis.

But, no, that’s silly. She’s no less an adult than I am. From what little I know of her, she’s likely more of one. From what little I know of her, she’s someone I want to get to know better. 

I guess I just don’t want to be Mother Goose in this situation. I want to have fun.

It sounds like I’m in this for myself, doesn’t it? Not very teacherly of me…

What’s my role again?

I want her to get out of this everything she wants to get out of it. And she will because she wants to. Because we both want her to.


I feel better now. I don’t know what age that is. But, whatever.


Author: uncaged

When Picasso painted a blue Seated Woman in a Chair, he was unconsciously thinking of me.

2 thoughts on “age crisis”

  1. Maybe you could be all those things at once, and all ages. I heard that cargo shorts are a very middle aged dad thing now. But I still feel like I’m in my twenties. In my twenties, the dads were wearing Top Siders with white socks and button down dress shirts tucked into their shorts. Which is probably what they were wearing in their twenties. It’s all a terrible mess.


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