I’m so annoyed at all the “how have I aged” post on FB.
“How am I aging? How have the last ten years hit me?”
I’m getting older. I’m getting wiser. I’m getting braver.
I am becoming more of what I never knew I could be. I am learning that there are multitudes within me. I am finding a capacity to love and to hurt, that was outside what I knew possible.
I have discovered that I am a speaker, and an author, and an athlete. I’ve discovered that I am a fearless champion for the people and the causes I love. I’ve discovered that recovery from disappointment, betrayal, and doubt from those whom I respect is more difficult than I would like it to be.
There are more wrinkles. And, yet, in every wrinkle, and every divot, and every scar, there are novels that could be written. But, I love that so many of the stories will never be shared outside of the precious few who were eyewitnesses (and co-conspirators) to audacity, stupidity, and bravado that has made me who I am.
Let’s not play the green-eyed game of who has aged best — or, who has better access to skin care and filters. That leads to comparison and therefore madness.
I have aged. And, in doing so, I have become more.
So have you.