Confidence of youth matched by the confidence of age and experience

My niece and I on vacation in Mexico. Confident women in our own ways.

The confidence of youth. 

The confidence of age. 

How sharp and beautiful the contrasts! How sharp and beautiful the similarities!

I returned home from my Paris and Morocco trip — my self-discovery journey — for three days. Days spent doing laundry, household tasks, connecting with loved ones. Repacking. One of my nieces asked if I’d go on a trip with her. She wanted an adventure with Auntie. Who am I to say no to the chance to spend time together, to reconnect?

So, still jet-lagged, adrenaline running high, I repacked for a Mexican beach vacation at an all-inclusive resort. I haven’t travelled with this young lady alone or as an adult. While she holds a special place in my heart, I was a little nervous at how this adventure might unfold. Would I still be the adult even though we both are adults now? I’m not sure I want to be responsible for myself, never mind another human being.

Although we are only halfway into our week together, it’s clear I needn’t have worried about her place on this trip or her place in this world. After all, she has a full-time job, pays her own bills, pays her own way in life. She has learned how to navigate as an adult in an adult world.

With the confidence of youth, of a 23 year old, she solves problems. She worries about little on this trip because little needs to be worried about. Her life hasn’t been an easy road. I’m not sure growing up in this day and age is easy. But she talks openly and freely about her struggles: boys, anxiety, depression, what to wear at raves. She mocks me, lovingly, because I’m her favourite Auntie, and my age and lack of experience makes her giggle when compared to hers. But we are so similar in so many ways, too, and this makes her proud, makes her aspire to be somewhat like me, some day. She’s vulnerable with me and also understands that I am with her to the degree that I can generationally be. I love this young woman with my whole heart. I’m proud of this young woman with every fibre of my being.

We sit and talk about her favorite uncle, who also happens to be My Favourite Husband (MFH), and reminisce on the times we were all in Mexico together, which leads to talking about other times together. 

And then she stands and moves, confidently, in a way that makes the eyes of men follow her. She moves with an air of expectation, knowing and understanding that how she looks, the way her body moves, how she dresses it, in combination with her attitude of being open to the world and everything it has to offer, will draw attention. The world is hers in a society that prizes youth and beauty. The attention and invitations are hers to consider or discard.

The confidence of youth.

It would be easy to feel a twinge of jealousy towards her. It would be easy to pretend that I’m seen when clearly I’m invisible. No matter that the years have been kind, my age is a giveaway that, as youthful as my spirit may be, my body tells a different story. 

I am not envious, however. My time in the sun may have faded but my time shining among the stars is still now. The confidence I move with is not the confidence of discovery and exploring but the sway of hips confident in knowledge my gaze is that of a woman who owns everything that has made me who I am — but especially the last few years, the years since MFH died. It’s the confidence of knowing my world can be shattered in an instant, fragment into shards that can never be pieced back together, can never be whole “like that” again. Confidence that I’m strong, smart and savvy. That the pieces and parts can be taken and put into something new. Someone new. Me.

While the Amira (Princess) is still finding her way, the Malika (Queen) also continues to find hers.

One moving with the confidence of youth. 

One moving with the confidence of age.