Thirty-Five. I've figured it out, the age you really start worrying about your age is 35. I wake up every morning and check to see if my laugh lines have gone away yet. I don't feel as old as I look and its not sitting well with me. When I was 33, I started to notice that the lines around my eyes were still there, even after I had stopped smiling. But now, two years later, the cute little wisps of lines have grown into full-blown wrinkles. I've been using an eye cream for Clinique since I was in my early twenties. I figured it was all I needed to stave off the crows feet. Now, I find myself perusing the skin care isle for the magic potion that will make me look young again.
I know I don't look "old," but I do look older. No one ever talks about the time in your life when you start to look older. You only hear about the "already old" part of the story. Sure, there are t.v. ads for products to make you look younger, but who listens to that tripe. No, I'm talking about the stuff about your body starting to deteriorate and wear out. I'm not ready for this. I don't want to lie down and take this, but who has ever won the fight against getting old?
I've decided to chronicle my feelings about this time in my life because It's never been so apparent to me before that I'm going to be old soon. I've been behind in everything. I still don't own a house, I don't have children. I just graduated from college two years ago. I'm not ready to settle into the role that society wants from people my age. I want to stay up late on a week night and eat too much candy before bedtime. I want to wear play rock 'n' roll music and wear my hair in pig-tails. It keeps getting harder to do these things. Not because I don't like to do them anymore, but because it hurts more when I do. I don't want to slow down, I don't want to grow up, but it looks like I'm losing this battle.