I’m 37 today.

Somehow it feels like now I’m undeniably a grownup. That sounds ridiculous, firstly because I have obviously been a grownup for many many moons now, and secondly because even when I was a child, I was treated like and expected to act like an adult, so I’ve really always had a “grownup-y-ness” that I’ve never really been able to shake. But there’s this idea in the recesses of my mind that at 36, I still could have gotten away with a bit of youthful indiscretion, and now that as of today I’ve hit 37, that time is done.

I have a somewhat youthful face (good skin) and most of my hair has not turned grey yet, so I’m often mistaken for being younger than I am. I was saying to someone the other day that I know the time will come when there will be a tipping point, and it will no longer cause expressions of surprise when I tell people how old I am, but for now, I’ll enjoy it while it lasts! It’s strange, though. I’m 37, but I don’t feel 37. In my mind, I’m still maybe a good ten years younger than that.

And then of course, you take my body into the equation, and I go from thinking I’m 27 to noting by the date on the calendar that I’m 37, to trying to do mundane tasks like mix up tuna salad or put dishes away, and my body tells me I’m 87.

Having been diagnosed with an uncommon form of arthritis (with a bit of fibromyalgia thrown in for flair), I am learning to accept my limitations and it has been a very hard pill to swallow. This past week, I had a very very large painting that had been commissioned that I needed to finish, and I was under the gun to do so timing-wise. So Wednesday afternoon, I painted for three hours practically straight through. On Thursday, I could hardly move all day. Lesson learned. Every day is a feat of endurance for me. For every choice I make, there’s a cost, and I need to be more aware of the cost/benefit analysis in every situation. For decades I’ve just powered through and kept going. My body doesn’t let me do that anymore.

This past summer, I had an opportunity to paint a mural, and I turned it down. I hated to do it; as artists, we are never in a position where we can be too selective about job offers, as there generally aren’t that many to begin with all the time, and we can’t ever know when that train will come back around again. But, I knew I was going to have an extremely busy summer, and I also knew, begrudgingly, resentfully, that my body may not tolerate a project of that scale. So, someone else took the job, and it’s gorgeous. I still regret saying no, but, the agony I endured this week after finishing a painting about 25% of the size of the mural tells me that I made the right decision. I love large-scale work, but it’s not something I can manage anymore. It’s just like when I came to understand I can’t make eggplant parmigiana anymore. I have different limits now.

I think that what I want to keep in mind is not the heartache and loss that come from these limitations. I want to focus more on the idea that if I know what I can’t do, I can be more dedicated to enjoying what I can do, without stretching myself too thin and hurting myself. Call it a reshuffling of priorities, perhaps. Things are changing. And it’s important to make space for feelings of grief and sadness and frustration. But just think how much more enjoyable life will be if I’m not trying to do and be all of the things. Maybe it’s a former gifted kid thing, or maybe it’s the fact that I was raised to be everything to everyone else regardless of how that impacted me — but I am learning that I do not have to go through every moment of my life at 250 percent. No wonder my body is burned out. At the rate I’ve been going, I’ve lived nigh on a century in 37 years.

I’m ready to slow down now. Not because the end is near, or because I’m dying, or because I’m old. I’m ready to slow down in order to treat myself with proper care, and in so doing, to truly appreciate my life with all its comings and goings, at a pace that isn’t so breakneck. It’s time to stop, and smell the roses. (If I get down in the dirt to do it, though, I’m going to need help getting back up!)