ON AGING, AT 34

I started writing this post on my 34th birthday, and it’s taken me two months to complete my thoughts on turning 34 and what it means to me. Last year I posted about beating the Birthday Blues on my 33rd by infusing self-love into your special day. The year before that, a fun little outfit post about my short skirt, smiling wide at 32. This year, I’m posting about ‘getting older’ because in the last year, my relationship with age has completely changed – suddenly I was ‘aging’. AGING. I’ve felt so many different emotions towards it, had so many different experiences with it, and sought out so many different ‘solutions’ for it this year – as if it’s a force to be reckoned with that I must control, deny and accept, all at the same time.

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