I went to bed last night a 32 year-old and woke up 33 years old. It wasn’t that long ago I turned 30 and admittedly I still think I am 30 years. The last three years have been a blur for many reasons but mainly because of parenthood. According to a recent study, 33 years old is the happiest age of our lives so that is promising.
Many dread adding another year to their life and I get it; however, I feel blessed to have made it another year. To breathe is to live and it’s a privilege that is not always granted to everyone. Some people woke up this morning to hear bad news about a friend or maybe they woke up to later learn news that would forever change the course of their lives.
I woke up today to celebrate the day that I was born. A day that forever changed my parent’s lives and a day that started my journey on this Earth.
We take birthdays for granted. We laugh and say , “Don’t remind me, I am getting older.”
We are getting older and that is okay. Maybe I am becoming a softie or maybe it’s because I am now a mom. I can’t bear the thought of leaving my family and loved ones. Perhaps it’s because I feel overcome with sadness and sorrow every time I turn on the news. That was someone’s friend. That was someone’s parent. That was someone’s daughter.
Knowing that life itself is fragile, growing older doesn’t have to be depressing, but can be rather liberating. I think turning 33 is great. I am still responsible enough to pay my bills and take care of other human beings, yet still willing to get out there and have some good ole fun.
The best thing about being 33: I don’t care as much about what people think about me like I once did. I would worry myself sick trying to please other people.
There’s really only a few people’s opinions that I truly care about: my daughter, for instance.
It’s comforting to know that my daughter thinks I am the most beautiful on days where I am rocking the messy bun and sweatpants looking like a hot mess. I know this because she told me so last week when she said, “Mommy, you are beautiful,” in her tiny innocent voice.
Turning 33 years old is…
…allowing yourself to feel loved from those who cheer you on while choosing to ignore the haters or naysayers.
…being comfortable in your own skin no matter how wrinkled it’s starting to become.
…cherishing the good moments and not taking things for granted.
…being so incredibly busy that you look forward to the day you have nothing to do, but knowing that once you get to that chapter you will miss these crazy and chaotic times. You know this because people remind you all the time.
… finding a hair on your chin and shaving your whole face in disbelief. Yes, I went there!
… shopping at Target, sneaking off to the Starbucks Cafe or driving around in your car just a few minutes longer simply to have some alone time – even if it’s only for a few minutes.
… driving around in a not so new car in old clothes so you can save money to travel with your families because making memories is more important than shelling out money for a new handbag that will only get ruined by toddler crackers, old gum wrappers, and juice.
…stepping out of your comfort zone and meeting new people with different views and backgrounds. You are eager to learn more about the world around you instead of staying enclosed in your ‘bubble’.
… spending Friday nights at home watching Dateline or 20/20 with your husband and being totally fine with that decision.
…never staying awake long enough to watch Saturday Night Live in its entirety.
…throwing away those high school or college jeans because it’s time. (“Let it Go!”)
…missing those who have passed on. Missing them really badly.
…realizing there is still time to start over. You can always be young at heart.
…looking at high school and college students and thinking how young they look. Did we look that silly?
…bones cracking. Yes, some of my bones are already cracking.
…trying to be a risk taker but also knowing there is no way in heck you are going to go mountain climbing at this point in your life. You know what you like and what you have no interest in doing.
… looking at your husband knowing you made the right decision to marry him even after the ups and downs of raising small children.
…learning to say “No!”
… learning how to say “Yes!” to new things you have always wanted to try but were scared to in the past.
…looking at your teenage stepson and appreciating your incredible bond that took so long to create. It was definitely worth the wait.
…complaining about your dog and how he trips you all the time, but missing him when he is away.
…feeling the sun shine on your not-so-smooth skin with SPF-30 on of course.
…knowing your self-worth. You wasted too much time in your twenties on that mess.
…thinking about grown up issues, but not wanting to do them because you still don’t consider yourself an adult. (Etc. wills, retirement, savings, etc).
…happiness wrapped up in a ball of stress.
…not taking yourself too seriously and remembering to always find a reason to laugh. It’s the best remedy.
Turning 33 years old means different things to different people.
I can only tell you what it means for me. Life in your thirties isn’t all that bad – as a matter of fact I look back on the last few years fondly. I am excited to see what the next year brings with it and I am thankful to still be on this Earth breathing with all of my loved ones.
I definitely think that turning 33 years old could lead me to the happiest year of my life, but then again you will have to keep following along to see if that holds true! Happiness is a choice that we must all make. It takes work, but I am up for the challenge. Thank you, God, for allowing me to grow one more year older and hopefully one more year wiser….
What age do you think is the happiest age of a person’s life?