Confessions Of A Middle-Aged Girl

I turned 48 the other day.  I think it’s the first birthday I acknowledge a basic truth:  I am aging.

The evidence is in:

  • Brown spots no longer phase me; they just annoy me.
  • Visual impairment:  I can’t read a menu without my reading glasses from Target.
  • I bring a sweater to the movies or restaurant.
  • Facial hair.  There’s more.
  • Gravitational pull.  That’s all I’m saying.
  • I joined a meditation group.
  • I tell young Moms “It goes by so fast…”
  • Favorite afternoon delight is a nap.
  • I’m not interested in your approval.   At all.

I’m moving into the next phase of my life now.  I’m hoping this wisdom hangs around because change comes tomorrow and the next day, too.  I can  torture myself and all of those around me by trying to turn back the time or I can embrace aging and all that it brings.

There’s nothing I can do to stop time from ticking away.  That doesn’t mean you can post an unflattering picture of me on Facebook.   I would do the same for you.

Vanity in moderation can go a long way, baby.

Eraserhead

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