32

I can't believe it. I am 32.

I get that 32 is just a number. We can attach whatever story we want to that number. So, I guess I am here to talk about the attachments I have to that number. The stories I tell about 3 and 2 together and the stories I tell about lots of other things.

32 feels old.
By 32 one should have figured out what they want to ultimately do for a living.
A 32 year old shouldn't feel like she married young when she just got married the year before.
By 32 babies need to become a topic of discussion.
All 32 year old women have feelings of maternal instinct.
Marriage means no more freedom.
Babies are like adding another padlock to already padded cell of marriage.
At this age, you're only gonna get fatter and more unattractive.
Normal means to become content with an unadventurous, stagnant life.
All women care about owning many pairs of shoes.
My wardrobe should more accurately portray my age...which is 32.
Women who are 32 are running out of time.

And here is a big one that I think I discovered I've been feeling for awhile...the fact that I am turning 32 and am now married, living in a house in MOOSE JAW makes me a sell out.

Why sell out you ask? Because I was always gonna be the girl who didn't get married, didn't weed the garden and didn't ever live in Moose Jaw. I was the one female I knew who was as happy single as I was partnered and who put her needs first and not behind that of a man. I wanted to be someone who broke the mold, who played by different rules.

Thing is, I feel like I am still that girl, I just happen to have made my commitment to a fantastic guy legal. Sure, I live in Moose Jaw physically, but I am here to make money, not because I am suddenly deluded into thinking this is where I belong. And I weed because it adds value to my investment. And although I love my husband - and I do love my husband - I have remained pretty aware and attentive to my own desires and needs. I also think that I could be just as happy single, if I needed to be. Yet, on nights like tonight, as I turn 32, I question myself. Have I become someone that I am not or is the real me just finding herself in surface circumstances that are a bit incongruent to her nature? Or am I over thinking all of this way too much when I really should be sleeping?

Here are some positive thoughts I have about stuff:

32 year old woman have never been sexier - in the media or in real life.
Marriage can be a something that makes you even more free, if you create that kind of union.
There are levels of attractive that the thirties bring you that just do not exist when you are in your twenties.
Babies - or men - do not make a woman. We have things going for us that are just as, if not more, significant.
Super cool women spend more time worrying about their global footprint than they do about shoes.
It is up to us to refuse to worry about having perfect bodies. We are smarter than that!
Things only get better at 32.
At 32, you're still a newbie...take all the time you need.

Just a number, lots of stories. Me, 32. Wonder where I will be a year from now? If I have it my way, I'll be in a place so unique and layered that I can't even imagine it right now.

I refuse to act my age.

Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.