32

This past weekend marked the passing of another birthday for me.  I've never been one who gets all wrapped up in age.  Not going to announce myself as "29 again" or "29 and holding" as I hear some fellow women do.  When I was younger I was always mistaken for someone much younger.  As a junior high student, people thought I was elementary aged.  In high school, it was "how is middle school treating you?"  When I was student teaching, it took the staff a while before they stopped asking for my hall pass-in a junior high school.  As a first-year teacher, on the first day of school a group of senior boys asked me if I was new.  When I said yes, they asked if I wanted to sit with them in the senior class meeting that morning.  They thought I was a new student.  Don't get me wrong, I didn't mind the confusion.  The way I figure it, if I kept getting confused for someone 10 years my junior, by the time I am 50, I'll look 40.  I can live with that.  But the thing is, I don't care if I look my age though.  I'm mystified with all this-let's try to look as young as possible-trend.  For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be in my 30's and beyond. Now that I am, I love it.  I don't miss those dreadful 20's at all.  I don't miss all the self-doubt, the feeling uncomfortable in my own skin, the trying to measure up professionally and personally.  I feel pretty damn good about myself.  From what I hear, it only gets better from this point forward. I relish each and every birthday I have.  I am proud of the number of candles on my cake.  While I do use a skin care cream, it is a SPF one to ward off skin cancer...not to protect myself from looking my age.  Bring on those wrinkles.  It will show that I have lived a full, rich life.  Now that I have survived youth, I can survive anything.  Just don't make me go back and do that part over.  For anyone who says those years were the best, don't believe it...they're lying. (lying)