I turned 37 this month. It feels shocking to me that 40 is so close, not in a negative way but one of disbelief. I still feel so young (does this ever go away? I’m thinking no) though I can confirm that having a child does finally help you to realize that you are, in fact, an actual grown-up.
The truth is, I embrace aging. Maybe this will change in the future, but for now, it stands. Aging equals wisdom. Self-knowledge, which translates to confidence. Every year I get closer to my own personal truth, and nothing feels better than that. And as for the things that don’t feel good about aging, well, there’s Botox for that! I kid. I haven’t yet done any Botox, or fillers, or anything of the sort, and while I’m not opposed to any of it (if it makes you feel good, more power to you!) I do think many people get carried away and begin to look the same, which makes me feel sad.
This particular birthday felt auspicious for two reasons. One, as my husband so lovingly pointed out, it was my first birthday as a mother. When you become a mother you are in essence reborn yourself, so I suppose this birthday represented that, rendering it a BFD, as far as birthdays go.
And then there is the fact that 37 has been my lucky number since I was a teenager. A true Aquarian (always desiring to be unique!), I didn’t want to have the same lucky number as anyone else. I decided 3 and 7 were the two luckiest numbers, so I put them together to make 37. For my birthday in the tenth grade, my boyfriend gifted me an oversized “37” charm on a gold chain. It looked like something you might wear as a football player’s girlfriend, his number inscribed just over your heart. Whenever I say aloud that 37 is my lucky number, the image of that rope chain necklace is burned into my mind.
It feels fitting to me that I am beginning this new chapter, that I am finally going after what is in my heart and has been for years, on this 37th year.
I’m always paying attention to numbers as I feel they carry a kind of mystical power and significance.