I’ve never been the kind of person who worries about my age. I actually looked forward to turning 30 because as a 20-something mom surrounded my older moms, I was never taken all that seriously (despite having been a mom for longer than some of them). I felt like being in my 30s would make me feel more grown up. Well, I suppose in some way it was true. But mostly on a superficial level. I felt happy to be able to declare myself in my 30s and, in my head at least, be taken more seriously. I had the added benefit of looking much younger, so the numbers adding up never seemed to matter. As I got older and stayed looking young, it seemed win-win. A few years back a young man taking money for entry into my daughter’s volleyball game offered my husband the adult rate and me the student rate. I chalked it up to my skinny jeans and Hollister sweatshirt and loved every minute. I have believed that I haven’t aged a bit in many years. And then I found a picture from the year my husband and I were married. I looked…so young. So fresh, pretty, rested, glowing…young. And then it hit me. that was 10 years ago. I do NOT look 24 anymore.
For the first time in my life, the idea of getting older is freaking me out a bit. It’s not so much the number that gets me. I’m 34 and that doesn’t seem old. But I’m noticing more and more changes in the mirror and THAT scares the crap out of me. It may just be that I’m finally looking my age. Or it may be that being the mother of 4 children and the daycare provider for 5 more is taking a toll on my once youthful looks and I am becoming haggard. Man…I hope it’s the former!
I had my first daughter at 19 and I looked 12 (yes, that made for fun trips to the store). I don’t think I ever really thought it would catch up to me. Now my oldest daughter is 15 and she is gorgeous. I’m not just speaking as her mom. She.is.gorgeous. She plays sports and is a muscular (yet feminine) 5’4″ sandy blonde (with natural highlights), with blue eyes and adorable freckles. It is interesting how watching your daughter blossom into a beautiful young lady can make you realize just how young you no longer are. Make you pine for your youthful glow that up until now you thought you still had.
So now I have to search inside myself for something deeper because until now I thought I already had it. But it turns out I was loving being the young-looking mom, the pretty mom, the hip mom, the stylish mom…whoever I was, or thought I was. But just like I see the amazingly deeper side of my gorgeous 15-year-old, I now have to figure out what that looks like in me, instead of wishing I was still as youthful and fit as she.
Ultimately, I need to seek out God, for him to show me who I am. Who he sees. Because he put me here for a reason and gave me these wonderful daughters for a reason. And it isn’t to be the young and stylish.