I’m 37! I’m Not Old!

This will be my mantra for the next 12 months.

Sometimes I feel old, though. Or at least older. Like, when I throw my back out exercising and have to go see the chiropractor to get myself fixed up. Or when I realize that birthdays aren’t really the exciting thing they used to be, despite birthday wishes from five companies, 31 Facebook friends, three Twitter followers, one IRL friend, my Mom, and my husband.

Or when I realize how many of my friends and contemporaries are divorced. Or how much of my and my husband’s family is dead.

But then I look at the perks of being older. Being more experienced. More level-headed. Knowing which fights to fight. Having perspective.

Sometimes I wonder how I missed out on some of the life lessons I was supposed to have learned by now, like how to get to work on time, and how to prioritize my home life as well as I do my work life, and all the other things I like to get down on myself about.

But then I realize that I’m still a work in progress, and I always will be.

I’m not old! I’m still learning.

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