I had a birthday last week. Or, as I say, the 29th anniversary of my 29th birthday. Yep, I’m 58.
There is a wonderful feeling that comes with my age at this moment – at least it has for me. I feel freer. I’m comfortable with who I am. I want for nothing, really. Oh, maybe a new car so I can give mine to my daughter now that she’s turning 16, but that’s just superficial stuff.
I would like to find a nice male companion, but I’ve been alone for so long that I’m good being alone too. I’m content. I’m content with where I am in my life. I’m content with who I am at this moment.
I love my friends and they seem to like me pretty much. I’m happy.
I don’t know if I could have said that last year at this time.
I was still contemplating surgery and wouldn’t have my surgery date for another few days back a year ago. I was 95 pounds heavier. Out of shape, out of breath, almost out of life, out of hope, out of happiness. Don’t get me wrong, I played a good game. No one could really tell that I was as unhappy as I was a year ago. I don’t think I really even knew how unhappy I was then. But looking back it hits me like a ton of bricks. To know I just existed with no real life in my life.
But then I truly began listening to my friend, mentor, client who teaches women about living in their authentic-self and it all began to click. It all began to make such sense and I began to feel like I could be a better version of myself. I just had to peel away the layers – literally and figuratively.
I had to breath, allow to receive and open my heart. And, as I peeled away the layers, as my body began to move again, as it shifted, changed and became stronger, I realized that age is just a number.
Your birthday is the anniversary of when you arrived on this earth. A reflection of the time you have been living – not a countdown to what you have left to live.
So live it! Be content. Be happy. Breath it all in and open to receive the fullness of life.
Happy anniversary to me!
Carmen Garcia writes about stuff… life as a single mother, dating, weight loss, performing, and other random experiences. Sometimes it makes sense. Other times, not so much. You decide.