Lies, Lies, Lies

Having been an advocate for truth for most of my life, I amazed myself this morning by lying to an online Scrabble opponent. And, truth be told, wickedly enjoying it.

He asked me how old I am, and I said, "82." But wait -- that wasn't the good lie. He said, "Really?" and I said, "No. But I feel 82 sometimes." That wasn't the lie, either. In fact, that isn't a lie at all.

Eventually I told him I am 32.

That was the good lie.

Ah, 32. What an interesting age.

When I was 21, working in N.J., I had a brief fling with a man who was 35. I thought he was ANCIENT. He was very funny, and fairly smart, but he had a bit of a belly and lacked that kind of taut, golden body to which I was accustomed in men. At least, the men I slept with.

Of course, now 35 looks pretty young, and 32 is positively infanthood. Everything else that I told my Scrabble partner was true -- that I felt 82 due to too many horseback-riding accidents; that I'm married; that I have a daughter.

So far, so good. Then my friend told me he's 34, married, finds marriage & impending fatherhood "tough." He described himself as a "wild person" who craves freedom. When I commented, "Like Gaugin? You want to run off to Tahiti?" he responded, "Can't do it, so why talk about it?"

I almost shot back that I'd felt the same way at 34; in fact, that I had tried hard through therapy to accept my life as it was, and that I'd finally run off, maybe not to Tahiti, but to plenty of other places and adventures. However, if I was only 32, as I'd lied, he might have questioned how I'd done that at 34. So I zipped my lip in the nick of time, and let him believe that I'm a contented housewife and mother at the ripe old age of 32.

In our ensuing conversation, though, I was conscious of really missing my real life. To think of being married with child at age 32, and to imagine myself following that path, well, to be frank, it gives me the willies. It definitely would not have been me. I would have sublimated my whole self, and probably right about now, I'd be getting a divorce and going in the Peace Corps. Just like Mom!

As it is, I'm SO happy I've led the life, or more precisely, followed the path I have. If I couldn't be mature, secure and fulfilled at 32, I would have been very discontent pretending to be mature, secure and fulfilled at 32. Not, you understand, that I'm mature, secure, etc. at my current age, but it's a better time to be married and a parent -- better for me, for my husband, for my kid.

To me, Tahiti doesn't seem remotely enticing, except that it is warm year-round. Had I been able to offer that guy the wisdom of my experience, I would have said: Do everyone a favor. Go to Tahiti. Be who you are. Jump. Things will work out.

Speaking of jumping, guess what? I was given a choice at the newspaper of going full-time or being laid off. What do you think I chose?