Jan 30, 2017

Bring my 33rd year on!

I’ve been told repeatedly that, once I reach my 30th year on this planet, as a girl, I would avoid telling my age and would start pausing at “I’m 30 something” or “I turned 30 few years back”.

On the other side, I have always been scared to be dependent on anything including being trapped in a certain fear or phobia. I work hard, daily, to break every single phobia I start developing and try not to be paranoiac about anything (well, as much as I can! I’m a normal human being after all and I definitely fail to overcome some phobias I have). Some, not all, and definitely not the Gerascophobia.My mother, when asked about her age, still says she is “29 and a few months” and she scolds me with her look when I openly say I am turning 33 this year as people will probably be able to calculate her real age (Love you mom, if you’re reading!).

When I look in the mirror and see the lines and wrinkles on my face, I do not fear them. As many of you already know and as I expressed freely and loudly before, I am pro-injections and fillers to reduce wrinkles and age lines in order for the woman’s face to look more presentable in public and on pictures. But I am totally against deleting those lines and thus deleting the person’s age. In fact, your face must reflect your age because there is nothing wrong with your age!

After the wrinkles come the white hair. I dreaded this moment in my early twenties and used to fear the first white hair, so I dyed by hair since I was almost 19 years of age. Changing from a color to another, I ended up discovering the first white hair last year, right after my 32nd birthday. And guess what: I had to act with overreaction and sadness just to be “normal” around my friends and family.  But deep down inside, I felt nothing; it was just a couple of white hair that could be covered with hair color shall I wish to do so!

And this year yet again, as my birthday approaches, all I can think about is my birthday dinner, how many cakes I will get to cut (because I have so many wishes to make!) and how to spend a memorable times with friends, family and all those I care for.

What I dread deeply is not making a good memory out of this year, rather than the age I’m turning into.

When I look in the mirror, with every white hair (those left uncovered with hair color), with every wrinkle (I did not start injections yet and don’t plan to start any soon!), I see years of experiences, memories, tears, happy moment and wisdom (or so I hope). I look and see future dreams, hopes, plans and expectations and I pray to receive as much as I wish for, and of course as much as God believes I deserve.

I’m growing old. I’m growing up.And in just a week I’m going to turn 33!

Bring it on!

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