Lordy, Lordy

What can I say besides whew. I can’t believe I’m bidding adieu to my 30s.

I saw my image in sliding glass doors at the grocery store yesterday and it hit me: For the last year plus I have convinced myself that every single reflective surface is distorted like circus mirrors, because surely my hips couldn’t actually look like that. Mirrors at the gym, Hobby Lobby or (god forbid) the Target fitting room? Yep. All distorted. Eric and I have a flimsy full-length mirror hanging on our bathroom door (think college dorm room) that is equally distorted, but for the better! I get dressed in the mornings and bypass our wall-of-mirrors in our bathroom to check myself out in the chintzy Walmart mirror and think, “lookin’ GOOD today, Mama!!”

On the eve of my decadal birthday I find myself looking in the mirror and asking the question, “who have I become?” I can joke about saddlebags and jiggle arm and if I’m being honest, these things don’t bother me too much. For the most part, I don’t let my external “flaws” get to me. It’s the internal stuff that matters. The heart stuff, the soul stuff, the grit. So when I ask myself the question “who have I become?” I’m not talking about my pant size.

In perfect timing, I just finished reading “Girl, Wash Your Face” by Rachel Hollis. Like me she surmised that folks don’t like aging because of wrinkles, gray hair and sluggish metabolisms. But after surveying a large group of predominantly women, she learned that we don’t like aging because of the accomplishments we have not yet reached and the dreams we have yet to fulfill. We have fallen short, or at least we think we have.

I am a notorious New Year’s Resolutions girl and turning 40 is like the Super Bowl of fresh starts. But even after months of intentionally keeping gratitude and grace at the forefront of my thoughts, I have lost my footing, tumbled down the slippery slope and landed in the murkiness of scarcity. On paper I would tell you (and truly believe) that I live one of the most abundant lives. But as I round the bend and enter my forties, it has been easier for me to fixate on what I have not rather than what I have.

What if instead of saying “I have not lost all my baby weight” we said “I have a baby!” Or 
rather than saying “I have not received my promotion,” we said “I am killing it in my current rank!” I can practically feel my neurotransmitters high-fiving when i choose to frame things positively.

And that’s the thing. It’s a choice. So I will march into this next decade with faith that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be and confidence in where I’m meant to go. I will wave my flag that says “I’ve got this” and actually believe it. I am my Beloved’s and he is mine. His banner over me is love.

Watch out, 40. I’m coming for you.