The other day I asked my cousin how old was she and she said “8 and a quarter”. I immediately burst into laughter. I remember when I used to do that. My mama says that when I was nine years old, I couldn’t wait to be twelve. It seems like I was enthusiastic about getting older, because I couldn’t wait to live out my dreams.
Fast forward to today. Yes, I am excited about seeing my dreams come to reality, but I dread getting older. And even though I’m still in my twenties, sometimes I feel extremely old and like I’ve wasted time. You wouldn’t dare hear me say my age and then add “and a quarter” to the end. Nope.
However, I do yearn to regain the excitement about getting older. We live in a society that causes us not to embrace life. Yes, we are encouraged to live life to the fullest, so why is it that we (especially women) hate the idea of aging? After 25 we stop saying our age, catergorizing ourselves in our “mid twenties”. I’m even guilty of not allowing Facebook to show the year in which I was born, because I’m so old (hint of sarcasm).
As we approach the end of this year and embark on a new one, I want to change my way of thinking. I refuse to believe that my best years are behind me. I’m no longer in my early twenties, but I haven’t even taken off the ground yet. That’s not a bad thing, because I know that I am spreading my wings in this very moment.
Starting today I refuse to live with regret of what I could have accomplished “back in the day”. All that matters is today, and today I care.