Saturday, September 06, 2008
I have my 20s only for one more hour. I don’t know why I have been clinging so desperately to the last of those years, but it has been a struggle to accept that I am turning 30 and entering into a new decade of my life. But I feel that I have accepted it now, and I am ready for my future as a woman, no longer a young girl.
Being wrapped up as I am in a culture and a career that celebrates youth and physical beauty, the prospect of getting older and thus getting closer to a time where I may have to rely on my character rather than my looks, has been daunting. It is funny how I see the marker of this transition in the fact that when I login to myspace tomorrow, my age will read “30”.
It seems such a trifling fact, but that’s what I keep thinking about. And I know how annoying my griping about turning 30 has been to my friends that are already in their 30s, and 40s, and so on. It’s like when I used to bitch about turning the paltry age of 25– now when I hear models complain about that, I want to punch them in the tits.
But I have a good feeling that my 30s will be much better than my 20s. Not only can I not remember most of my 20s, but at that age we are so insecure as we try to define who we really are and what we want in life.
I feel I am so much closer to loving myself as I am, and appreciating what I have, rather than wishing I was someone else or wanting what I don’t have. Everyone tells me that your 30s are some of your best years. And now, finally I think I believe them.
What is beauty without the confidence to go with it? What is your health without a responsible dedication to preserving it? Yes, I am looking forward to this new time in my life. And besides, there’s always botox.