How it is possible that today I am turning 32 years old? Initially, each year past 30 sounds a lot older. The approaching birthday causes the number to echo in my mind.
32. Thirty-two. Treinta y dos. It plays over and over again in my mind as soon as the calendar hits August 1st. By the time August 11th rolls around, I am well prepared for the reality of my new and improved age. I try not to allow those negative thoughts to creep into my mind (mainly, why don't I have kids yet? My ovaries are getting older by the second, OH GOD THEY ARE SHRIVELED UP, RIGHT?)
They say "Age ain't nothing but a number." I disagree. I see my age as a badge of honor. Another year wiser. Another year of experience under my belt. Another year goes by that I realize watching MTV no longer makes any sense.
Another saying I disagree with? "Act your age, not your shoe size." BORING. I'll claim 32 but I'll act 10. I'll be free and happy and innocent. I won't allow the burdens of being an adult to keep me awake at night. I'll play and make things and be happy. That's what 10 year old Michelle would do. I say whats good for 10 year old Michelle is plenty good for 32 year old Michelle.
Happy Birthday, self. Show 32 who is boss!