Here in a couple short weeks I’ll be 29 years old. You know, “29 forever” – the dreaded age women hit when they suddenly lose the will to share their age with anyone ever again. Some ladies would be freaking out right now. “29?! How could I be 29?!” Let me share with you why I’m not scared.
The last nearly-29 years of my life have been full. Rich. Interesting. I took piano lessons between 6 and 12. I competed in a pageant (piano was the talent, of course) when I was 8. I have lost loved ones – due to death, distance, and arguments. I gained my first best friend at 9 years old, my second at 11, and my third at 14. I still speak to each one of those lovely ladies to this day. I’ve fallen off a bike and skinned my knee countless times. I’ve broken hearts. I’ve learned that we have two ears and one mouth for a reason. I’ve won countless prizes from the radio stations. I’ve lusted after men I couldn’t have. I’ve had surgery five times – six if you count my wisdom teeth. The only true vacation I’ve ever taken was to Panama City Beach, Florida – our senior trip. I graduated from high school and graduated from college four and a half years later. I survived an abusive relationship and left the bastard. I’ve earned every one of my silver-grey hairs. I’ve grown comfortable with my body. I married a man who makes me laugh and stimulates me with intelligent conversation. I have nurtured my little girl with my body while I was pregnant with her and continue to nurture her outside my body as well. I graciously ask advice. I understand the value of a job well done. I’ve grown comfortable with my opinions. I’ve also grown comfortable with the fact that I’m not always right.
There are many things I still have yet to do . . . I’ve never been camping. I’ve never been overseas. I haven’t worked for a radio station. Some of these things I may never do – but the beautiful thing is that I still have plenty of time to do them in. I’m counting my blessings. 29 is good.