31

 

Somehow I'm 31 now, which means I'm actually "in my thirties." That's such a weird feeling. People often tell me that I don't look like I'm 30, and I am happy to take that as a compliment. 

The other day I looked in the mirror and noticed forehead wrinkles. I now understand why people get botox. It just needs to be puffed up a little and that wrinkle would be gone! The wrinkles have weirded me out much more than the gray hairs, but I've been finding the occasional gray hair since high school, so maybe that's why. I really hope when I go gray that I get a streak of gray first instead of random white everywhere.

Ultimately, I'm grateful for the opportunity to grow old. There was a time in my life where I couldn't imagine being 35. When I looked at my future, it was so bleak that I didn't even want to be 35. I hoped I could die a tragic, quick (but painless) young death because that seemed better than continuing life as it was and living to be old. 

Thankfully, God stepped in. He did some very unexpected things in my life and got me turned around. I'm not saying life is perfect, but man am I blessed. He got me out of a bad situation and now I can rejoice because I'm not where I once was. 

I'm learning to celebrate more, because, even if I'm blessed enough to grow old, life is still short. So I called my favorite bakery and ordered my favorite cake (strawberry with cream cheese icing) and text some friends and family to come over to my Gramma's to celebrate with me. 

I only had 12 candles on my cake (even though I wanted 31) because I couldn't make myself buy three packages of candles just so I would have enough. Although in hindsight, maybe it would have been worth the $10. (Probably not--it took two tries just to blow out 12.)