A few months ago, I went to dinner with my best girls, Kelli and Lisa. We grew up together and always stay in touch by phone and facebook, but we don't all get the opportunity to get together often.
The three of us have been friends for more than three decades now, and I've known Lisa since birth. While a part of me will always blanch when I hear "20 or 30 years ago..." and realize I remember the event in question quite well, I take comfort in their familiar faces. We all have more wrinkles and more chins than our youthful counterparts, but I have decided we wear them well.
I am over forty and happy to be. Actually, if I were completely honest, I am shocked to be to content with my advancing age. My son is still cuddly enough to make me feel young, but my tweenager daughter can, at times, make me feel ancient or at least hopelessly out of date. Oprah says 40 is the new 30, but to be perfectly honest, I never expected to feel that way.
But then I had no idea there is such freedom in being over 40. For instance. I do not wear underwear that is not comfortable. Ever.
I drive a mini van. It has heated seats and three TVs and I will not apologize. There is nothing better than a warm butt on a cold day.
I also have a wonderful collection of Yoga pants, even though I thought downward facing dog was from the Kama Sutra.
But the best thing of all is that I accept who I am...and those I love, as we are. We're not perfect or even that petite, but we are wise enough to be happy in the skin we're in and to celebrate a life well lived...everyday.
Here's to middle age!
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