Growing up in the South I’ve had it drilled into my head that you never ask a lady her age….and if you did she’d lie about it. Women around me were forever 29. Except my grandmother who always owned up to everything. I turned 34 this month and I don’t understand this stigma of growing old. I’m THIRTY FOUR! I’m proud of that. I’m even prouder of my life. My family is happy. Everyone is doing great. We are in a good place and things are moving up for us. I haven’t announced it, but we are in the process of buying a house!!
Both Brian and I are happy and settled in our jobs. I’m in that spot wher I can work with the people I want and ignore the stuff I don’t want. Brian makes his own schedule now. Everything amazing on the work front.
I kind of celebrated a Bithday “week” so that I could celebrate with friends and then come home and celebrate with my family. I realized each day how happy I am. How confident I am. Yes I dye my hair to hide the grey I’ve earned, but I own my stretch marks, my laugh lines, my scars. They all show where I’ve been. I’m confident in myself more than I ever was in my 20s. I know my flaws, but they don’t hold me back anymore. I’m me. Kasandria. Kas. I own it all. I’m 34 and happy. What are you?