As I barrel towards my thirty-mmrmpth birthday, I realize that I appreciate getting older.
Okay, so there are wrinkles where there weren’t before (but, you know, just little ones), I almost always get called ma’am and rarely get carded when I wanna buy booze. So there’s that.
But with every year that goes by, I gain a larger sense of freedom to be who I am. Long gone is that adolescent sense that everyone is always watching me and the worry that I’ll never quite fit in (whether I want to or not). And it’s not a “so what” or “screw the world” kind of attitude I’ve developed so much as a “life’s too short to not love me just as I am” attitude.
Life is too short. When we’re six and waiting for our birthday or summer or Christmas, the days seem creep by like a snail pulling a minivan but now we know they blow past us at a thousand miles an hour.
And none of us know how many of those days we have ahead of us.
Of course, it doesn’t take years to figure this stuff out and I’m probably a slow learner.
So, whatever birthday we last celebrated or are about to celebrate, be it the 5th or the 105th, let’s raise our glasses and toast ourselves, whoever we are and wherever we’re at. We may not be exactly who and where we want to be but the only way we can get there is to embrace ourselves as we are now.
Wrinkles and all.
Psst…I’m turning 37.
There, I said it.
What do you think is the best thing about getting older?