Close your eyes and make a wish

In one week I will turn twenty-nine.

Holy smokes.

That’s, like, super grown up isn’t it?

I mean, I’m by no means a proper Old or anything – goodness knows.

But! Growing up I always assumed that once I neared an age that had both a three and a zero it would mean that THINGS would be SERIOUS and that I would be MATURE and, oh, I don’t know, WISE.

(Or something.)

Now, it’s not that I think I’m none of these things.

I am, of course, properly wise.

(Or something.)

But mostly, it’s so awesome to realize that age really means nothing.

Nada.

Zilch.

Bupkis.

Nothing will ever be as inconsequential, fleeting and intangible as those four little numbers littered about your birth certificate, drivers licence, passport and all other personal identification pieces you have littered about your purse (or wallet, or fannypack, or what have you.)

And I mean, who actually wants to relive their early twenties?

(If you do – WHO ARE YOU? And WHY?)

Despite the fact that I spent these years with the massively excellent man to whom I am now lucky enough to call my husband (or permanent life partner in crime) I was pretty, deeply unhappy for a good portion of this time.

I was incredibly ill (suffering as I was from both anorexia and bulimia), and completely neurotic about school, and work and my constant quest for perfection in every, and all areas of my life.

It was exhausting.

And now?

I cannot even begin to explain how good it is to be able to walk by a mirror, or window, or any semi-reflective surface and not feel compelled to look at myself.

It has got to be the most freeing experience in the whole wide world, and I wouldn’t trade all the anti-wrinkle cream in the world to go back that time in my life where, like Narcissus, I was just drowning all the live-long day.

Of course I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t still struggle with perfectionism (daily), because I do (and probably always will, in some iteration or another) but I am no longer sick, and every day I get better and better at giving myself a break (or the many breaks that I deserve.)

And how awesome this that?

And you know what is more awesome?

I am finally getting to a place where I am comfortable celebrating myself and all the cool things that come along with being me.

Because dudes, I have accomplished a lot of really cool stuff in my relatively short time here on planet earth and for the longest time I refused to even acknowledge them, let along celebrate them. As a young women that just always seemed SO gauche, and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was stuck up, or a braggart, or just an insufferable jackass.

(I might be that last one, but that’s only when playing Ticket to Ride after too many glasses of white wine.)

And no only that, but there are so many amazing and brilliant things coming down the pipe in the next few months which leaves me with ever more reasons to celebrate: work adventures, incredible public speaking opportunities, radio show hosting gigs, half-marathons, Tough Mudder, trips to the Okanagan, Chicago, and Hawaii, and so much more!

PLUS –

Five years ago, Marc and I bought our first home (our exquisite town-home that I love very, very much), and very soon we will be moving to our first real house-home!

Not to mention the fact that I have the most amazing, life-affirming and life-enriching friends, many of whom will be coming over to have a massive dance party with us next Saturday.

And even though they live so gosh-darned far away,my family are my rocks, and they make all the beautiful diamonds and gems of this world shimmer just the more.

Finally, I am married to my best friend, the greatest man I will ever know.

…

Man.

The simple act of just typing out those words makes me SO excited for not just the next season or two, but for the bloody next twenty-nine years!

Twenty-nine mirror free years.

Won’t you join me?