Sunday, November 16, 2014

Why "grow up"?

Earlier this month, there was a BlogHer prompt asking about how we felt about aging. I can't remember the
In my thirties and still not sure of how to do my hair
well. This is a passable first attempt at formal styling, at least.
exact question, but it seemed relevant to my month, since I have a birthday next Saturday.

So, how do I feel about aging? Like most people, it's a mixed bag. I look back at years past, and wish they would have gone differently. My twenties were full of depression, varying degrees of trauma and a dogged determination to survive, much like my teens were.

My thirties, so far, have been better. I've begun to understand myself more, accept my shortcomings, work on my strengths and discovered the root of many of my depression problems. Oddly enough, I've noticed more issues with anxiety, now. I can generally keep a lid on it, but I have been thinking of finding someone to talk to about it.

We'll see how it goes.

Overall, though? Aging seems to be doing wonders for my mental development in general, which is what I think should happen. I've successfully completed the zero draft of one novel, and have three others in various stages. Hopefully, next year will be the year I start approaching publishers and writing agents. As it is, I've been entering contests and submitting work to various places.

I've had blog entries and articles featured around the internet, had readers around the world see my work, and seen gradual improvement in what I can do.

Physically? On the one hand, I'm healthier than I had been during my depressed years. I'm cooking more, eating healthier, and am at a much safer weight. I don't exercise as much as I'd like, but who does? Yoga a few times a week will hopefully become yoga every day, and multi-mile walks will hopefully resume once I get the will to face the winter cold again.

Still, traditionally negative signs of aging have begun. They're subtle, now. A few grey hairs, some fine lines here and there, a couple more aches and pains; nothing too dramatic. They don't bother me as much as I thought they would.

There are days when I see them and think of the finality they represent, but mostly, they're badges of honor. I've survived long enough to develop them. Like the scars I've earned from various experiences, they tell a story of life.

Will I dye my hair? Well, yeah. I'd ordered a henna kit last week, because I love red hair. Once that grows out, I'll stay natural for a while again. I fully plan on eventually becoming a blue haired old lady decades from now. On purpose.

I'm thinking electric blue.

If I'm lucky enough to have kids and grand kids by then, I'd hope I'll have raised them to embrace the fun that comes with age. I'm quirky now, and I only hope the increase the free spiritedness that has finally broken away from the negativity that had knocked it into oblivion in my younger years.

For now? I'll do my best to enjoy my 30s. Then my 40s. And however long I'm lucky enough to live. My body may get older, but my mind will only continue to evolve, if I have any say in the matter.

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