Today I am not writing a post about wellness, nutrition or psychology. Today I am writing my personal musings because today I turn twenty-nine.
Not twenty-nine years old. And not twenty-nine years young as some like to say. Just twenty-nine.
Twenty-nine years on this planet. Twenty-nine years around the Sun. Twenty-nine years in this Universe. Twenty-nine years of living. Twenty-nine years of breathing. Twenty-nine years of feeling joy and happiness.
As odd as it may sound I don’t care about ageing. People keep saying ‘Oh that’s because you are not thirty yet!’ I am sure that nothing will be different when I turn thirty. Or forty.
To me it’s just another year passed. Another year of lessons learned. Another year of wisdom gained. I cannot say they are all life-changing, eye-opening lessons. Some may be. Most are not. Just little truths that have never occurred to me before. I accept them as they come and I am grateful for them.
As years pass and I supposedly age nothing changes in my apprehension of the age. To me, I am stuck in the ageless limbo where a number is just a number and doesn’t matter much. It just tells me how long I’ve lived. My birthday is becoming less of a special day to celebrate my birth but more of a day to celebrate life.
As my face changes every year I accept that my skin is slightly less plump and it’s fine. I won’t rush to fill the wrinkles in in a cosmetologist’s office. My wrinkles tell me about my life, about me. The ones at the corners of my mouth tell me that I smile a lot – those around my eyes attest to that. The wrinkles on my forehead tell me that I am not the one to frown a lot, but often I express surprise. People surprise me, life surprises me – more often in a good way.
Just twenty-nine.
I am happy to be where I am today at twenty-nine. I am grateful for my family – both for the one that is here with me: bubbly my girls, my loving husband and his family, and for the one that’s far-away: my dear parents, sister and other relatives. I am grateful for my friends – some very old, some new, but all too dear. I am grateful to be me and celebrate this day.
Happy Birthday to me!
Thought I’d just type it right in here for me to remember. After all, thoughts get lost in time, diaries shredded, letters burnt. What is a thought if it is never voiced?
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