I'm a grown up. You'd think the degrees and the job and the house would have made that register. But nope. It took seeing myself doing my dorky ghetto dancing in a giant mirror to realize that I looked like an adult trying to drop it like it's hot. Granted, I had been noticing this for a while, but seeing the entire dancing face picture made it sink in. I'm sure the couple of m'ams I get this week helped too.
I know I look different when I look in the mirror these days, and not just because of Reba face (it's a long story - but it's the term I made up in high school to refer to the days when you don't quite look like yourself), and not just because it takes a while for my face to wake up in the morning. I look like an adult. I'm getting acquainted with fighting gravity, and sometimes I'm self-conscious about the changes I can notice. It induces fear because you don't know what you'll look like or if you'll age "well". However, I keep trying to mentally own it. I'm thinking about what fascinated me in grown women when I was a little girl and I'm trying to embrace those things.
Famous women like to say their thirties empowered them to be themselves and rock their confidence. I always wondered if that was true or if they just needed a line to sell. I guess I'll find out. I have a hunch they're right because I'm sensing rumblings of freedom and courage. I wish the younger me had been more bold and self-assured, but maybe I get to make up for it in peace and grace (Lord, let's hope).
Right after the ghetto dancing face ephiphany, I went to hang out with some friends and these sort of topics came out - totally unprompted by me. One friend said flat-out that she'd take botox as soon as she could. I'm pretty sure I'd have my arms done if I had money laying around. I never thought I'd say that. I never thought I "approved" of such things.
Hopefully, this self-obsessed rambling has a purpose and maybe it's this: I'm starting a new adventure, time changes your perspective, and let's try to make this fun.
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