Getting older is funny isn’t it? I’ve always looked forward to birthdays, don’t get me wrong, but the older I’ve got the less excited I’ve been to, well… age. The week-long celebrations are great, and the presents aren’t bad either, but the idea of getting older and more wrinkly and further away from being 18 just isn’t one that appealed to me, TBH.
But this year is different.
This year I feel okay with ageing. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the closer I get to 25 I’ll be back to worrying about crows feet and laughter lines and whether I should start taking eye cream application seriously. But there’s also something quite calming about getting older. About being sure of myself, and my decisions. I know what I like, what I don’t.
I’m more confident. I don’t worry about what other people think of me anymore, not in the 16 year old ‘are they smiling to my face and slagging off my outfit 5 minutes later’ way, anyway. I spend time with people who matter to me, not people I’m desperately trying to impress. I work on friendships and relationships that are fulfilling, and abandon those that are toxic. I treat myself the way I want to treat others. I put time into looking after myself, listening to my body when it tells me it’s probably time to stop with the Jaeger-bombs. Most of the time.
I’m learning new things all the time, gaining new experiences, seeing new places. Every year I’m doing more, seeing more, being more.
Ageing has a lot of bad press, but so far? It’s not been too bad.