A LIFE LESS PHYSICAL

Why I love ageing

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Me, my sister and our two friends on my birthday. Can you guess which one’s me?!

Tomorrow is my birthday. If you know me in real life (as opposed to internet life) then you will already know that I am insanely excited about it. I start counting down to my birthday from June – my work colleagues can vouch for that – and as autumn approaches I start to get seriously giddy about the big day. My excitement has not changed since I was a little kid, and my poor boyfriend has to cope with months of me hopping about from one foot to another and bursting out with, “Guess what’s happening in 46 days!” Poor thing.

Last year I turned 30 and whilst friends around me started panicking about old age and unfinished plans, I was too excited about having a ‘big birthday’ to care about what it meant to be 30.

I still don’t really care about age. I didn’t love my younger years, I didn’t really know where I belonged and when I look back on my teenage years and my twenties, I am mainly left with a feeling of stress. Don’t get me wrong, there were some incredibly awesome life highlights in there, but I would never choose to go back. With every year that I get older, things get better.

So tonight, on my birthday eve, we’re going out for pizza and beers (tradition) and I get to start buzzing with excitement at the plans for the next few days. Because, for the first time ever (that I can remember) I do not have a clue how I will be celebrating this year. R has decided to take control – a bold move since I start twitching when I’m not in control – and has planned something for the weekend. Eeep!

Not only is this the first year that I haven’t been involved in the planning; it’s also the first year I’ve given some serious thought to my age. I wonder if the two are interlinked and my planning is to detract from my age….? (Let’s not look into that idea too deeply.) There is something about turning 31 that feels… old. It feels adult and grown up. I feel ready to slow down a bit and start thinking about, I dunno… grown up stuff.

But let’s save all that ‘stuff’ until after the celebrations. For now I’m just going to eat pizza and wait to find out how I’m spending the weekend. And, in the mean time, I will be spending my actual birthday at work with a diary full of meetings. Sigh. But don’t worry, I will make sure I find time for cake.

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