I have reached the point in my life where I am finally – FINALLY – concerned enough about sun damage to wear a hat when I go outside. It took awhile. I blame the delay in part on my dislike of the way I look in a hat. I just look… dumb. My ears flop out of the sides of the cap in a weird and mildly uncomfortable way. Plus my head seems like it’s a little too small for most ball caps? I don’t know. I have friends who look very cute and sporty in ball caps, but I am not one of those people. 

My husband agrees with my assessment, and mocks me mercilessly anytime I don a cap. Don’t even get me started on anything floppy.

But I have reached a pleasing milestone, which is that I don’t care. I wear shorts with my thick, cellulite-spangled thighs hanging out for all to see, and I have a ball cap on my head, and a fanny pack around my waist. Basically Peak Mom, but not, like, Cute Mom, who could get away with wearing that exact same outfit while somehow looking chic and stylish. Cute Mom I am not. No, Peak Mom as in the stereotype that sitcoms and SNL poke fun at.

But I don’t care. This outfit is practical. It provides maximum sun protection. I can carry my phone and keys and a mask in the fanny pack. 

I have heard mythologies about this magical point in adulthood when you stop caring about things that were once desperately important to you. This is the one area where I have achieved the Don’t Care attitude. 

Well, okay. I also no longer care whether people think I am weird/political/hysterical for wearing a mask in public. So two areas of Don’t Careitude.

I am eager to unlock new things I don’t care about. In no particular order, I am hopeful that someday, I will no longer care so deeply about:

• My body shape/size/weight. I am making baby steps toward this one. 
• Whether doctors think I am asking too many questions, leading me to leave one or several topics I wanted to discuss off my list. 
• Small injustices – like getting home only to find that the restaurant didn’t include the sauce I paid $0.75 for… or having someone misunderstand the lanes at the bank, and cut in front of me at the ATM… or having someone cut me off in traffic.
• Errors I made and awkward things I said literally decades ago.
• What my parents think of my life decisions. 
• Whether I am “using” my education.
• What people think of my “career” choice.
• How my house/clothing/car/cleanliness compare to those of others. 
• Whether I talked too much/enough and/or said the right things and/or sounded stupid at [fill in the blank].
• Leaving the house with mascara on.
• How I look whilst exercising.

Based on the women I know who are older… there’s hope for some a very few of these, and not for others. 

In what areas have you achieved Don’t Care perfection? And in which areas are you hopeful to achieve this state of being at some future point?