Embracing Birthdays

I have heard of women who cry on every one of their birthdays. They mourn their youth, and they dread turning another year older. This completely puzzles me. Birthdays don’t really bother me. On the contrary, I look forward to them, and I enjoy them. I don't believe that getting older is the terrible tragedy that some women make it out to be. I’ll admit that there are times when I wish I could have the smaller body I had when I was eighteen. I also sometimes wish that I could have the youthful energy and excitement that high school girls have. But I wouldn’t go back. Who would want to go back to all that drama?!! I wouldn't want to go back to those awful insecurities, either. Sometimes I think that youth is highly overrated. At forty-four years old, I feel like I'm in my prime. I have laugh lines around my eyes, a crease in my forehead that didn't used to be there, more than a few gray hairs here and there, and skin that’s not quite as tight and smooth as I would like. I carry stretch marks from carrying not one, but TWO nine-pound babies. They are ALL my battle scars...my badges of courage...my purple hearts of womanhood. I carry myself with more confidence than I ever have, I feel smarter, I laugh more easily, and I try to not take life (and myself) as seriously as I once did. We as women just don’t embrace age in the way we should. My forties have definitely been better than my thirties, and I bet my fifties are going to ROCK! So today, I am actually thankful for being another year older. It sure as heck beats the alternative!