When I started this post my first inclination was to write something reflective, sweet and inspiring about my graceful entry into this next stage in life. A post worthy of the praise of Oprah, the "Lady of Life" as my first born calls her. Truth is reaching this milestone birthday has made me come to grips with something hard to say.
Gulp.
Deep breath.
I am vain.
Vanity is a hard pill to swallow for me. I have never been one of those girly girls. I appreciate a cute flat wayyyy more than a heal-- Christian Loubo--whatevs. Jeans and a t-shirt are just fine with me. And in other people I value intelligence and wit so much more than the physical. So I feel like this admission will get me kicked out of some sort of "cool girls" club I am a member of.
I guess that a lot of this rests in the fact that I have always loved the thrill of being found attractive by the opposite sex and feel like that ability is fading as I cross into--- eek-- middle age. My browser history is not surprised by this admission with recent reads such as Strip Club Science: Stripper Beauty Secrets at xoJane. Yup. That tab is actually still up so I can take some notes. :/
I guess on one hand I should be happy to have reached this age and still give a shit. I haven't ended up throwing in the towel and totally become a clog-wearing-soccer-mom. I still want to feel and look young and vibrant. That's half the battle, right?
Right!
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
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