I had the pleasure of being one of this lovely lady’s subjects for her 100 Strangers project, which you can read about here. (If you know me at all you will know how much I love this idea.)
Kimusan has a wonderful vibe about her, a sweet grace and style I really admire, and if it wasn’t too Anne Shirley to call her a kindred spirit I would. All this to say, this is what 38 looks like.
–
Awhile ago I asked my 70-years young mother-in-law what she thought was her “best” age. I know, it’s a vague kind of question (“best” in terms of what; health, strength, hair, happiness?) but it didn’t take her long to come up with an answer: late thirties.
I’m interpreting that to mean 38. So according to her, I am entering my very best years. This deserves some attention, and it’s something I need to think about a bit more, but the fact remains that I have to be mindful so I don’t miss it.
So this is my mantra for 2010: 38 is great.
And it is, really. I can’t think of a better age to be. But I didn’t really have to ask my MIL.
I used to think that 26 was the ideal age, but I’m revising it now. 38 is miles better. 38 is confidence and self-assurance. I feel taller than I ever have before. Sure, it might mean a few wrinkles here and there, some stretch marks which will always look like battle scars, some jiggly bits as well, but it’s a small price to pay for a don’t-mess-with-me-attitude I am really savouring right now.
A 26-year old may cower or over-apologize or gush or feel reams of hurt for small reasons, but my 38- year old self has a thicker skin, and feels comfortable with herself and the choices she has made. It is much easier to give people the finger when you’re 38 – and I mean that literally and figuratively. I stand by me.
I turned 38 yesterday, and I hate to say it, but despite the awesomeness of the year to come it didn’t exactly start with a bang. We spent the day packing (we’ve been away camping… more about that to come) and on the road back to Ottawa. I also spent much of the day clutching my gut – which has been punished by a marked lack of fibre and vegetables and an overabundance of chip-like substances. (Poor guts. You were better when you were 26.)
Mark bought me a holster for my iPhone so I can continue my Couch-to-5K with ease. The girls bought me jewels for my Kameleon necklace. And there was chocolate. And sushi for dinner. And a lemon tart from Three Tarts which was TO DIE FOR. And then I fell asleep on the couch.
So today is day one of 38. I think I will start it off by jumping in the pool. A baptism of sorts.
