I turned 35 yesterday. I know it’s not popular to say this, but I like getting older. Each year I gain experience in life, and a little bit of wisdom if I’m lucky. Every year, I feel a little freer to just be myself. I am enjoying watching my kids grow up and move towards adulthood. My face has more character than it did 10 years ago. I have some lines around my eyes, and a few on my forehead. I also have a few gray hairs.
The first time I found a gray hair, five years ago, I jerked it out of my head, like I imagine every red blooded American woman does. But when another one appeared, I made a choice. I would embrace the aging process. I wouldn’t pull out my grays, or dye them. Instead, I would use them as an important reminder: I will die someday. That day, when I was looking in the mirror at my second gray, I realized that if I died that day, I would have had a lot of regrets. I felt like I wasn’t living life fully, and that I had to do something about that. I started trying to make every single day count, and my life improved in some big, important ways. I’m looking forward to the next 35.