|52 years old|
|17 years old|
I have never denied my age and never understood people who did. The truth cannot be denied. It can be covered, but we know who we are, and how old we are no matter what we tell others. I have always told my age, I have not denied who I am.
There is one more reason why I enjoy so much to be my age, each year is a feather on my hat; each year represents a milestone on a battle I will always face in a war others lost without a chance to be on the battlefield.
I never wanted to be on the battlefield, I wanted to stand on the sidewalks and cheer for the ones coming home, but the Universe has a way of showing us who is in control. I ended up there fighting, and I will always stand vigilant of the enemy. Once you’ve been called to duty, you are always on call.
|35 years old|
Nevertheless, I am enjoying my age. For the first time ever I am okay with the way I look or better yet, I don’t care what anyone thinks of the way I look. I am comfortable in my own skin. I am comfortable around the people I choose to be with.
It took 52 years…
I must quantify that statement, no, not the took 52 years, but the one about being comfortable. I have strived to be in touch with my feelings, question them as I may. I have also been aware of being an odd ball, and always afraid of not being an accepted odd ball. I am now, okay with being or not being accepted as such.
A good place to be.
It took 52 years give or take. Totally okay with being here because frankly there is nothing I can do about changing the past. I wish had found running earlier, wish I had taken a different major in college, wish I had…wish I had…but I didn’t so I am here and it’s a pretty good place to be.
52 and loving it.