I’m admittedly one of those chicks that is doing well for what people may think is the “over-aged” range. I get the “I wouldn’t put you pass your twenties.” I politely smirk but on the inside I’m giving myself high-fives and doing cartwheels. Damn right I look good! I wasn’t part of the junk food generation and took no part in the drug and drinking life. Weed never touched my lips and sex wasn’t casual recreation. I gained 30 pounds since high school, lost ten and kept the rest all in the right places. I’ve gotten braces, said no to the “creamy crack” and hello to a full head of locs. I said no to cow milk (hormonal hell) and yes to almond milk; a more health conscious life. My trainer gets on me for missing sessions but I’m trying to do right by my body. I may look young but my mind and heart is light years ahead of this 5’3” frame.
Thirty nine won’t be the year of aging jitters lined with endless regrets. I remember when Oprah turned forty and my nineteen year old self couldn’t figure out what was the big deal about getting “old”. I laugh because like Oprah, I’m celebrating the beauty of aging and aging oh so graciously. I get the “old lady” comments from former students and young family members. I’m out of touch they say. Old fashioned and stuck in my ways. I own that and more.
I own my values and beliefs. I believe in commitment of one man to one woman; that the cow and the milk comes in one package, not piece-mealed until she’s turned into dry powdered milk. I believe in friendships that come with passports stamped with words like loyalty, endurance, and adventures. I believe your word is your bond, strong work ethics is a must, and an unwavering moral compass makes for clean living. I believe in solitude to think, crowds to enjoy and balance to keep me sane. I believe in living my best life now. My twenties was full of mistakes and my thirties was about making it right.
So this is it! The last of the thirties! No fan-fare and no parades please.