So, today is my 32nd birthday. I’ve joked a lot lately with my boyfriend and friends about how I won’t admit my age anymore or that I’m going to start going backward from now on.
But the truth is, I’m really not all that unhappy about being 32. My life has not turned out at all the way I thought it would, and although there are tiny things I wish were different, overall I wouldn’t change it.
I definitely would not want to be 21 again. I look back at the things I did, pre-kids, and I wonder how on earth I could have been that stupid or immature. I look at relationships I had, friends I chose, and I wonder what I was thinking.
I’ve learned so much in the intervening years, and it has enabled me to make better choices in romance and friendship. The older I get, the better I become at being a parent, a girlfriend, a daughter. I become more comfortable with myself, and more willing to put myself out there to achieve my goals and dreams.
As a teen, we all think 30 is so ancient. We think it will take forever before we get there. It doesn’t take forever. You get to 30 before you even realize it. But you also realize once you get there that it’s not nearly as old as you once thought and that your life is actually better than it was at 20.
I’m 32 today. To my kids, I’m old. To me, I’m still very young but old enough to be comfortable and proud, and to have my entire life still ahead of me, with no countdown to the end just yet.