Growing older has been the choice topic of discussion lately. I'm sure my parents and parents, parents would laugh at the thought that 27 is old, but I really do feel like I have turned the corner onto grown-up street. Like, real grown up. Like, knee cracking, stretch mark having,eye wrinkling, metabolism slowing, hair graying... grown up. It is a tiny bit hard to handle. I am a little ashamed to admit that it is the cosmetic things that hurt the worst. Most likely because they are punching me in the face every time I look in the mirror. I find new lil kinky gray hairs all of the time. I use to feel like a monkey sifting curiously through my hair looking for the light strands. I don't have to look anymore. They are right there... in plain sight! I am also noticing the wrinkles around my eyes much more lately. My mom thinks they are cute, but I am convinced that she only says that because she still looks like she is 27 with her wrinkle-free, beautiful mexican skin. I got my Dad's skin. And, don't fret Dad, you are ruggedly handsome... like a cowboy kissed by the sun. Sun-kissed, rugged eye wrinkles are not flattering on a chick like me.
We spend the first quarter of our lives dying to be older and then we are and we would give anything for our perky teenage boobs.
Here is my attempt at convincing myself that growing older is fabulous:
I have gray hairs because I have LIVED through stressful events, my wrinkles are proof that a smile never leaves my face, my bones crack because I love being active, and I have stretch marks because I am a mother fucking mama tiger.
Getting old IS fabulous. Bring it on.
Smile wrinkles :)