Today is my birthday. I can’t believe that I am now 43 years old. I don’t feel any older. In fact, I am not one of those people who get upset about getting older. I don’t feel one way or another about it.
My poor sister in-law had a birthday last month and it was hard on her. She was upset and hates to be getting older. I wonder who was it that told women we have to fear getting older. One of the best years of my life was when I turned forty.
Why? Because when I turned forty I no longer had the need to worry about what other people thought. While I’m still polite and do my best not to offend people I am at the age where I’m too old to worry about everyone’s feelings. Every single person I come into contact with is either going to like me or not.
That is the way it is but when I was younger it bothered me when someone didn’t like me or if I upset someone. Now, I don’t set out to hurt anyone but I speak my mind much more freely. If I don’t want to do something I say no, I can’t or that’s not for me.
I am much more a take me as I am person now. I no longer change to please people. I am my weirdo self. It no longer bothers me that friends make a remark about me carrying a book everywhere with me. I never know when I will have the chance to read some or entertain myself. I still say dude but don’t ask me why. It just comes out from time to time. I am loud at the best of times but also shy.
I have a super loud laugh that a lot of people hate. I no longer snicker to keep from upsetting someone. My laugh is my own even if it does sound like a witch cackling at times. I now let people know when they hurt my feelings or they have made be angry. I used to just live with it. I would cry when I was alone because I didn’t want to let anyone know they had hurt me.
I don’t care that there are more candles on my cake. There is still plenty of things I want to do and lots of life to be lived. It’s not perfect but it is mine. I plan to spend the day with the family enjoying the celebration.