Not Forever 21

It started about a week ago.  One of my best friends always gives me a hard time for reaching for my ID before the waiter, bartender, checkout person asks for it.  A lot of these places know me as a regular and therefore this habit is completely unnecessary.  I'm only 25 though.  Remember that feeling of "I made it" when you turned 21 and your ID wasn't just crammed in your wallet for use at the airport?  I even used to love the places where you would be with a group and they would "need to see everyone's IDs".  This time I was purchasing some wine at a store I rarely frequent and I surprisingly did not reach for my ID, only to be handed the grisly comment "I need to see your ID, you got yourself a baby face." (To be read in a grumbly, Maine accent)

A baby face?!  Is that a compliment?  It's funny how such a small comment, from someone I will probably never interact with again made me contemplate ways to pump up the "I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman" factor of my face.  Do I need help with my make up?

Not quite the same, I would say

A few days later at work, I was toting around a small child like any other day.  (I work in a daycare, this is a normal thing to say.)  I am used to children pulling my hair (also, read in context) and this particular child had a firm grip.  As I was prying my hair out of her death grasp, I found it.  The first white hair.

I am not immune to the statement that aging happens to everyone.  The wrinkles forming on my face remind me that maybe daily SPF isn't quite enough in the summertime.  Being blessed with strawberry blonde hair though, white or gray strands can be particularly tricky to spot.  I've never dyed my hair because my hair does it's own changing with the seasons (I sound like a tree here).  I think the spotting of this one particular hair, soon after being called a baby face, was my body reminding me that 25 isn't particularly young anymore, and it made me start to think.

I am not in my lower twenties anymore, but I'm also not that far from them.  When I look back even just two years, when I first moved to Portland and I would go out every Thursday night, I get sleepy even thinking about it.  During the work week, I look forward to going to bed by 9:30 or 10.  I don't even go to some bars anymore because I feel a little bit like an old creep in comparison to the girls surrounding me that can still flaunt Forever 21 outfits.  BUT, I'm okay with that!

I look forward to gently aging.  One white hair hasn't sent me reeling.  I also need to accept that maybe some people will still call me a "baby face" and realize that time probably won't last for much longer.  People think about age too much, maybe writing this post has made me realize that.  Try not to use the phrases "still young enough to" or "too old to" and just do what feels right!  I think this is another unplanned resolution.

Don't live your life based on a number, don't fret the white/gray hairs.  If you find yourself starting to do so, give this a listen.