Lies I tell myself on my birthday

Lies I tell myself on my birthday

My favorite thing about birthday’s is that they make you think about how not young you are. Hahaha joking. Kinda. Okay, let me start over. Hello, how are you? I’m fine thank you. It’s my birthday next week and I’m just sitting here, reminiscing on a time when I was a tad bit, you know, younger, and stuff.

I love the saying about how aging and getting old is all in the mind and you’re only as old as you feel and all that other stuff you’d read on a Drake swag note or on an Oprah meme. I guess there is some truth to that, right? I mean, surely.

I know 30 year olds who act (and probably feel) older than some of the young-at-heart 40 year olds that I hang out with. “Age is nothing but number.” Well, that’s what Aaliyah said (and we now know that the song was inspired by the pedophilic R Kelly, so maybe ignore that quote). My point is that we often LIE to ourselves, when our birthday’s loom, bringing with it the reality that we are not as young as we use to be.

I mean, I often catch myself lying to myself about the fact that I’m passed my sell by date. You can’t start that new career… you’re too old. You cant attempt a new hobby… like, at your age, what are you trying to do, win a Guinness World Record or something?! And duh, you can’t be successful in your field of interest at such an “old” age (mind you, I’m only in my 30s… somebody call Dr Phil) because people who actually made it did so when they were in their 20s. Oh the lies I tell myself and actually believe.

I also lie about the fact that I look old now. Oh I’m SO fat! I look SO tired, like, ALL the time. My hairstyle is so lame. My clothes are so mommy-esque and boring. I’M SO OLD. What utter crap? I’ve seen stylish, healthy moms prove me wrong on all points. And it’s made me realize that letting go of my health and letting go of feeling good about my appearance is a decision I make. It’s a lie I tell myself. And it’s one that I don’t have to be stuck in.

We often lie about how much potential we have, “now that we’re old”. But in my situation, I think the lie was birthed over time, on all the days when I birthed my kids. The lie tells you that one more baby equals a little less potential, ability, creativity and overall awesomeness.

We lie and tell ourselves that our children are a life-suck… you know, they suck the life out of us. “Oh but I mean, I LOVE them! I can’t imagine my life without them!” *huge smile* The truth is that they’ve done nothing but add value to the adorable badass that is you and you’re probably more capable of great things now that you’ve learnt to manage a whole entire household. Show me a fancy CEO who can simultaneously bath a 4 year old, while on a conference call with your teenager’s school, as you attempt to feed a hyperactive 2 year old AND keep a watchful eye on the pot on the stove. This stuff is not for sissies.

Anyways, the point of this rant is that it’s my birthday and I’ll age if I want to. But that doesn’t mean I’m losing my poise, my power or my passion. It doesn’t mean that this is the end of me. The super fierce girl who wanted to take over the world, when she was 22, is still there somewhere. And like fine wine and a great pair jeans, she only gets BETTER over time.


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