The 80's

I admit it – I am a child of the 80’s – meaning, I was not BORN in the 80’s but I was a TEENAGER in the 80’s.

This fact frightens me and amazes me.

In a time when everyone around me was oohing and ahhing over President Reagan and seeding their conservative right wing views I was off on a different path – arguing with my homeroom teacher about the fact that she couldn’t MAKE me say the pledge of allegiance, rocking out to Madonna (note: not the Madonna of today who is into Kabala but the real Madonna, the one that wore 50,000 bracelets and lots of black lace) arguing about whether or not her “Like A Virgin” song was inappropriate, and of course, loving Michael J Fox on Family Ties but hating his political views.

Nancy Reagan though held a special place in my heart for distain. I thought her “Just Say No” crusade was ridiculous despite the fact that I personally had never done drugs. I thought she was nuts for letting out that she used a psychic for assistance in making decisions while she was First Lady. I could go on and on – you get the point.

Like everything else has aged, my views have aged as well.

Over the years though my views on Nancy Reagan have softened. I’ve seen her shield and seclude her husband during his final days so that his legacy was remembered the way he would have wanted it. I admired that she went against political lines to support Stem Cell research knowing that she would face ridicule because she knew that the advances and findings would help millions and millions even if it would no longer help her husband. Finally, I grew to respect her tremendously when I watched her during her president’s funeral – it was heartbreakingly obvious that she loved her “Ronnie” dearly and was shocked and devastated by his death – even if she knew it was coming.

I’ve found too that my views on life have changed. I’ve softened around the edges of my idealistic soul. I’ve learned that I’m not always right all the time – that sometimes things happen for no reason, that I can’t change the world. I’ve learned that I have to like myself and think before I put myself out there – that, believe it or not, not everyone wants or needs to know my opinion. I’ve learned that coming home to a family that loves me and watching TV on a Sunday afternoon with my husband *might* just be a ‘good time’. I’ve learned grown to accept that I’m never going to be a size 2,4,6, or maybe even an 8 again. (I have *not* however accepted that my ass is as large as it has gotten – WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?)

Don’t misunderstand. I still think that it would be great if everyone had health insurance, that all children had access to the same level of education, that everyone had enough food and water.

I’m still just as idealistic even if I’ve learned that I can’t change the world.