I’m hitting 35 in March. Like, seriously…how the heck did that creep up on me?
I’ve been quite relaxed about my age – since celebrating my “Dirty Thirty” I haven’t really thought about my age; some days I even forget completely. 32-34 aren’t real milestones, they’re not significant, they’re just numbers. 35 however, seems to be the marker point that sets you apart from the 20 somethings. The young’uns. The cool kids. Forms or questionnaires put me into that “older” bracket. I’m in with the 35-45’s. Like, seriously (again)…when did this happen?!
It just feels like I have less time to reach those goals, I mean 40 has always been my target to get my shit together. I’ll be slim, tummy tucked, sucked and tight. I’ll have my signature style sorted and my kids will be old enough to fend for themselves, or at least fix themselves a sandwich whilst I “do lunch” with the girls. Yeah, 40 is going to be ‘LIT‘. Admittedly these things aren’t going to happen overnight. I have to prepare for the best time of my life, whether it’s renewing that gym membership or making sure my kids know how to unwrap a piece of cheese, and I actually need to start today!
I’m starting all this by investing in my skin. Ok, this probably sounds really insignificant, but hell, this face is all I have at the moment. 10 years of wearing make-up and using baby wipes to remove all that grime. I still get breakouts like I’m 13 and because of that, I feel more self conscious on my make-up free days. Breakouts and dark spots are an on-going irritating cycle.
Ok, I know I shouldn’t sound so self conscious or talk about how I want to look by the time I hit 40, but damn, I wanna be pretty. I don’t want to age gracefully, I want to be one of those hot elders… Tina Turner hot. LET ME HAVE MY TIME.
Although I have made all these plans, my mental age may need some work. I said maybe. I still laugh at farts with Zachary, I still say “Your Mum” if someone asks for something (even my kids) and I still like sequins and glitter. I’m like, in LOVE with sequins and glitter. You’ll find me in Accesorize browsing through the little girls section mumbling about how they should make these glittery bags bigger. These things don’t have to change do they? I can still rock pastel braids when I fancy a change, right? Of course I can darn it! I can switch it up and be mature when and if I want. I can be a combination between hot mess (mentally) and sophisticated and effortlessly cool (physically). I guess this mash up is what you would call eccentric? I’m not sure.
So I guess, to conclude, I’m still figuring this out. I have at least 5 years at to iron out all those creases and tick off those goals… also get my tummy tuck and figure out what I want to do with my hair. Let’s hope that I don’t get hit by a bus tomorrow. That would truly suck ass. (HAHA…asses are funny).