When I turned 29, my Aunt Denese sent me a card saying that I should stop there. She was 29 for most of my life. When she had grandchildren she moved it up to 39. A lot of people don't like the idea of getting old. I can remember, as a kid, seeing my mother and aunties comparing the skin on the backs of their hands in dismay. Mom even scheduled a face lift once, but when they showed her the video of how they do it, she sneaked out of the office while nobody was looking.
I kind of like the idea of getting old. I have a few gray hairs and I've decided that they are just fine being gray. I like the grandma role. I know that I don't have any grandchildren yet, but my nieces and nephews have obligingly had babies that I can practice on. I'm perfectly happy to adopt the grandmothering attitude that my mother embodied.... you have two hands? Then you must need two cookies.
It's unrealistic to think that I will be able to find a life partner. I am past my prime as far as things like that go. But I happen to be entering into prime years for spoiling little kids. I don't a have a need to feel glamorous anymore. I'm happy giving hugs and wiping tears and lending an understanding ear. It's like I've come to an understanding of who I am, and I'm okay with it.
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