Monthly Archives: August 2012

Flirty 30’s

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Flirty 30’s

I have to say after browsing the world of facestalk for the third time this morning and seeing a fair few status from classmates depicting turning 30, I thought I’d share my view of life in my 30th year.

First you need to know me as a person before i get on with the topic at hand. I am a little vain,quite self obsessed, if truth be known.  I have had regular weight battles and serious bad skin days. Yup you heard right bad skin days, I have bad skin days as opposed to bad hair days. When you have hair like mine, that is neither curly nor straight,and has a double crown, every day is a bad hair day. I don’t even notice it much if truth be known, so I have bad skin days.

I have spent my school days cursing my thick legs, short stature and small boobs. My teen years wishing I was tall, slender and blond like my then boyf’s idea of perfection and my 20’s on diet and exercise regime’s to melt my post baby curves and turn me into Mila Kunis. As she is brunette and shortish it must be possible right?  Right?

So in fact I’ve decided I really like being 30. My 20’s rushed by,we moved,and moved and moved. Everytime we got a home to our taste it was time to move. It was not a bad time, but it was a busy time. I learnt who I was in my 20’s. I built a relationship with a man I didn’t know, we grew up together and went through some crazy up’s and down’s but learnt to love each other properly. (we still fight and it’s ok) I added two beautiful, unique children to the world and set on my journey of bringing them up and looking after them until they’re ready to set out on their own journey. I made parenting mistakes, learnt how to be a parent and realised what it takes to be a mother.

Physically I’d never thought I made the grade for a good-looking 20-year-old and this was a source of a lot of my discontent, but at 30 I’m feeling a lot less pressure. Crazy really because I actually looked quite acceptable and didn’t make the most of it!  My 30-year-old friends look like 30-year-old friends even the ones with the tightest bodies’ are not really much competition for the 18-25 something girl, anymore. Well at least in the looks department, that the celeb magazine’s value,that is!

It’s ok though. We feel like women. I am a woman. I know me. I can cope with my depressive/anxiety states. I have  the life experience and the mad stories to keep people entertained over a dinner table. That seems to come with age. I have complete sexual confidence. I respect my vagina,it respects me. Most of the time 😉  I have lived abroad (and decided the best place is home ) I have long-term relationships/friendships with some amazing unique people,that have the depth of history made together. My hubby’s parent’s and my parent’s are still young enough to enjoy life along with us, and I’m seeing them as people in their own right not as only an addition to me.

My son and my best friend’s daughter now play in our garden (we have been friend’s since eight years old),with their siblings as we watch on. Precious moment’s I hope I remember for ever. Our friendship goes on.

Yeah my 30’s are going to see a new me. I believe I’m finally starting to develop body confidence which is in no relation to my diet and exercise habits. I’ve earned my mummy tiger stripes literally and I think it’s time for me to wear them with pride rather than hiding my body away, worried that someone will comment. When all said and done, I’m very lucky. I’m healthy, I’m slim enough (bmi is in check,which is how I like it), with a little waist and bloody good boobs (they grew :-D), so who cares about my bingo wings and fat thighs. My friends don’t, my husband doesn’t. I’ve still got a pretty face, with big beautiful eyes and I like to see the age changing my face in the pictures of me and my children (who get bigger and bigger), year by year. I feel a whole person, which sounds mad,but that’s how I feel.

I wonder what I will learn in the next ten years, what will I experience before I’m 40.What could happen next? I love being 30, don’t  you?

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