37 Years Old
Turning 37 was not as bad as I expected. My body reminds me on a daily basis that I’m older, and my list of accomplishments isn’t anywhere near where it should be at my age, the wrinkles are starting to be not-so-subtle and if I want to have another baby Mike and I are gonna need to get on that, asap.
Still, I’m more comfortable in my own skin than I’ve ever been.
The most unsettling aspect of turning 37 is feeling like I have to lie about being 37. I refuse to do that, which is the only reason I’m even talking about this weird celebration where you reminisce on another year of your life gone by.
I don’t mind taking advantage of the cake though... maybe we should just have a “let’s eat cake” day. I can fully support that.