Today I am 34.
It’s hit me harder today than it did 4 years ago, that I’m “getting on a bit” age-wise. I know, 40 is the new 30, and all that. And I’ve still got a few years to go before 40. And to be honest, at my 30th birthday I had a 6 week old baby, so I undoubtedly feel infinitely better today than I did 4 years ago. In fact, I feel better today than I’ve felt since, ohhh, probably my wedding day, 6.5 years ago?
I’m not exactly where I thought I would be at this age. For the longest time I thought I’d be a career-woman. I wasn’t sure a family was on the cards for me. Then of course I got a bit older and started to yearn for a family. When I got married at 26 I thought babies, lots of them, would follow soon after. But Nick didn’t come along until 2.5 years later.
Of course at 30, with a 6 week old, I thought by 34 I’d be done having kids, and would have at least 2, possibly 3.
But as well all know, life doesn’t always (or even usually) go to plan. Still, at 34, I am the fittest I’ve been in years, I feel the healthiest I’ve been in years, I feel the most confident/sure/secure that I’ve ever felt, and I know that being me is not only ok, it is great. I love my life, my family, my friends, I have more than I’ll ever need but still have enough wants to drive me to do better and to keep me on my toes.
At 34, I know what is important in life. I know how fragile life itself is. I know that it’s not about the number, but about how you feel (something I used to think only old people said, and hey, maybe it is and I am now officially old). And I feel great! Not a day over at least 26! Maybe wisdom does come with age.