This is me with all my bumps and bruises. I'm not perfect. I'm just me. I think part of the joy of being 36, is being okay with that. I just got about 6 inches cut off my hair and it was just the pick me up I needed. I think it was somehow symbolic for me as I just feel lighter in spirit since I did it. I think my best features are my thick hair, my mismatched eyes, my sparkly personality and my rather umm, well-rounded backside.
In the interest of full disclosure I will tell you that I am starting to see the effects of time marching across my face, I have stretch marks, I'm finding hair in places a woman ought not find hair, my arms seem to keep moving long after I have finished clapping and the grey has staged a cou d'etat on my head.
I'm smart as a whip but I don't have a college degree, choosing instead to graduate from the school of hard knocks. That used to bother me, but I now realize it just makes me who I am and I can still hold an intelligent conversation with my physics major husband. No shame in that.
I think as women we have such a habit of tearing each other down instead of lifting each other up. I think this is learned at a very early age and is done to make us feel better about our own inadequacies. I think I am finally starting to outgrow it. When I look around at you women, I see beautiful, smart, creative, loving, loyal, special individuals. We each have our positives. None of us is perfect. Lets focus on and embrace that.
This is who I am. Now show me who you are.