To my 30s, that is.
Today I turn 39. My (younger) husband wondered how I felt about almost being 40. (My young and foolish husband.)
You want to know the truth?
The truth is, I feel fine with growing older. Birthdays generally don't bother me as far as the aging goes. The last two years have been a little sad because there was no phone call from my Gram saying, "Happy birthday, Annabelle!" and no card in the mail from her with "Love ya, Gram" scribbled at the bottom. But when it comes to getting older, it really doesn't bother me.
I decided a few years ago that I was NOT going to be one of those women who hide their age or lie about it. I understand that some women do, and that's fine with me, but to be frank I have done a lot of living and learning in these past 39 years and I won't settle for partial credit. They have not always been happy and easy years, but after the span of nearly 4 decades, I can say I am smarter, more relaxed, more calm, stronger, and more resilient. I didn't go through the ups and downs, trials and struggles to pretend those years didn't exist. While I wish I would have been born with those qualities, I am relieved to have learned some hard, but important lessons along this 39 year adventure.
Now, do I wish gravity still thought I was 25?
Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do.