I love growing old. To be at a point where I can say that is a gift, considering there was a time I didn’t want to and didn’t think I will reach 30. I love the wisdom and the easygoing, no-care attitude that comes with aging. I am able to go out wearing pajamas with my messy, frizzy hair without panicking. I am now able to let go of worrying about weight and fats and the many things that society dictates we should or shouldn’t have.
I like it that people can say shit about me, and I would still do what satisfies me like dyeing my hair green, getting a tattoo, or choosing plane tickets over much needed new clothes. I like it that I no longer do such as a form of rebellion, but because it’s what I want and wanting it is good enough a reason for my choices to remain unaffected by external perception or pressure. There’s more openness and love now, both for the self and the world. The way one sees things – beauty, loneliness, happiness, contentment – is more encompassing.
*Photo by Meg and Jane Studios