39 and a ramble


39 years old. Age is just a number? But it isn’t. It truly is a definition of how much you’ve experienced of life. By now, I should be a bit wiser, a bit more patient with life, a bit less patient with people, more open minded with the world, less open minded with the way the world should function, and on and on and on…

My body has changed. A steady decline as knowingly comes with age. No matter how hard I work out or how healthy I eat, it’s still a struggle, if not mentally, most certainly physically. To feel strong is the goal for the present and the future, but to say at 39 years or older, I’m in the best shape of my life? No. Not just because I’m literally not in the best shape of my life, but because no… I humbly resign the best shape of my life to when I was playing sports in highschool or running miles upon miles at 23 years old and getting stronger with every step. It is a sad yet solemn defeat, but with every year, I’ll go on fighting the inevitable.

A lot of self reflection has taken place in the last few years, much of which fits the typical clichés of being a wife, a mother, a daughter, a friend, and more. For a long time, I wanted to be different, unique, but as I’ve experienced life, being relatable and sharing those experiences through laughter and tears has been a phenomenal teaching lesson in my life. The human connection in all it’s many forms is most powerful. So much to say about it, but I’ll save it for another day.

39 years old and I am abundantly happy. I’m not perfect and I am my own worst critic, but through my own frustration and heartbreak, I’ve learned not to demand so much from an imperfect person. Life and it’s ups and downs. To be abundantly happy, you have to know what the other side of the spectrum would be like. I love my life. Past, present, and so hopeful for the future.

I’m tired as it’s late. I’m going to stop rambling now. This is what happens when you get older.