Being Ashamed Of Your Age

Am I the only woman on earth who has never once lied about her age in reverse?  I've made myself older, but never younger.  The way I see it, I've earned those years...and the scars on my body.  I don't look at the number of years as a thing to be ashamed of, but something to be proud of.  Sure I'm looking ahead to my 30th birthday with some trepidation...but not because of the age.  I don't care that I'm going to be 30 in a few years, I'm worried that I'll greet 30 the "wrong" way...the way 99.9% of people greet it, doing the same thing they were doing at 20, or 25.  There is a rather large gap between what I saw my life being at 30, and what its looking like its going to be at 26.

Somewhere along the line though, humanity was taught that age was a bad thing.  That we should always strive to be young.  What moron decided that?  Must have been an advertising executive.  Especially when it comes to women.  My gods, is there a woman over 25 who actually admits her age?  Or a woman over 30?  Its a running joke that any woman over 30 is 29 again.  Where the hell did that come from?  When did youth become beauty?

Frankly I see age as beauty.  When I was 16, I was a scrawny lil shit.  Not a line graced my figure...not that you'd know it, as I'd learned young to hide my "beauty".  Ahh the taunt young figure of 16.  I don't want it back. (The gasps of horror are echoing people...)  I had far more body issues back then...especially considering I had a 6 pack to rival most mens.  Not exactly the most feminine time in my life.  Now at 26 I have stretch marks, a few grays (and no I do NOT dye my hair.), and I can see a few lines on my face that weren't there before.  They're the marks that I've done something with my life, my character is right there in the open.  I had a child, carried and delivered.  Should I now be ashamed of the marks of carrying a life?  Pulease.  I have those lovely thought lines between my eyebrows.  I think a lot, and actually use the brain I was given.  I have laugh lines...which means that no matter what, I find something to smile about.  I'm proud of everything I've survived and done so far...and I hope to all the powers that be that when my time comes, my body is as used and abused as I can get it.  I want to skate into the afterlife screaming my joy and leave a well used husk behind.  Not a time capsule of what I looked like at 16.

What about that should I be ashamed of?







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Adams, Roumiana R


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