I am not an Orphan

So, I'm going to be 26 on Tuesday.  I know.  For some, that may sound terribly young.  To my students, it sounds like I should be driving a mini van and tucking my Hanes tee-shirt into my Mom jeans (which are, hysterically enough, wide-leg dark denim as I was informed by a young girl wearing jeans that could only have been painted on to her chop-stick legs.)  Regardless of what it sounds like to people, I know what this specific birthday sounds like to me.  Awesome.

Generally speaking, 26 is a fairly anti-climactic age.   No one makes black tee shirts with headstones for the big 2-6.  I think it is safe to say that I will not be surprised with a party, wheeled in by a wheelchair, or  pelted with any "over-the-hill" paraphernalia.   I have, however, hit a huge milestone.  I finally, deep down in my soul, am comfortable with myself.  I would even go so far as to say, I really even like myself.  Like, a lot.  In a not Uncle-Jesse kinda way, of course.  Now, a lot of credit is due to my husband who constantly reminds me how awesome I am (and after 3 and half years, I've slowly begun to believe him).  He has been the most encouraging, supportive, inspiring force in my life.  But I think it's even deeper than that.

I was on the phone with a good friend of mine not too long ago and was explaining this phenomenon to him.  I kept saying, "It's like, I finally figured out that I can just do what I love because I love it! Not for any monetary or social gain.  Simply because I love it.  And God's totally cool with that! I think he's even proud of me for it!"  For the first time in my life I have openly and willingly accepted that I am not alone.  I don't have to feel any guilt about not pushing my gift hard enough for it to make money.  I don't have to beat myself up for being too afraid, too lazy, not good enough, etc.  God will ensure that I'm taken care of no matter what I do! It gave me the biggest rush of freedom I've experienced in a long time.  (Almost akin to the "Wild Abandon" blog.) 

As I gushed on the phone in the car in traffic, my gracious friend inserting a few " uh huh's" and "Ah's" and celebratory, "Yes!' 's I finally paused for a breath long enough for him to say something that I'm sure I will remember forever.  He said something to the effect of  (forgive the paraphrasing- talking on the phone while driving is seriously illegal in New Jersey and I was trying to listen and watch out for blue lights at the same time),

"Wow, Jen.  You finally stopped living like an Orphan and started living like a Daughter." 

Again, paraphrase.  Those may not have been his exact words.  But those were the words I heard in my heart.   I'm not an orphan.  I'm not an orphan.  

I think living like an orphan for 25 years is more than enough.  I am so ready to start this next chapter in my life exactly as who I am.  Sans Mom jeans, thank you very much.