The Age of Aging
For me its 29.
I have never been one to be afraid of getting older or one who loathed birthdays. I made the decision years ago to adopt the aging gracefully philosophy and accept early on that birthdays are going come every year, so I might as well enjoy each and every one. And I do! Some are more important to me than others for various reasons. My 29th birthday was not one of particular importance to me and I thought remarkably little about it. It came and went with a perfect morning at the dog park with my new husband and dinner out with great friends.
And now…I’m 29 and aging. It happens to all of us and we notice it at different times and to varying degrees. I’m not upset about this discovery or bothered by it but I am noticing some changes.
For starters, I am no longer offended when the construction workers oogle or cat call. I now feel flattered and a little grateful.
I enjoy being carded and take slight note of the fact that it doesn’t happen all of the time anymore.
I started taking Move Free for my right knee with the replaced ACL since its now begun to ache and click.
I have noticed the slight differences in certain parts of my physique that I used to read about and laugh at on greeting cards for womens birthdays. The journey from perky to pancake is upon me and I think I even noticed something wiggle while I was brushing my teeth a few weeks ago.
And, I’ve actually heard myself say “Those girls should be wearing more cloths!”
My age of aging is 29.
And thank God for that! I wouldn’t go back to being 18 or 22 or even 27 if my life depended on it. The best part about noticing these aging issues is that I could care less. I like my life and I like myself…so screw you perfectly tanned, toned and accessorized 22 year old because I never have to be that young again.
And to the local construction workers….I’ll see you tomorrow morning.