Image by alexis22578 via Flickr

In my head today: After you turn 25, youthful exuberance slowly gives way to decrepit old age.

Examples

• The wrestlers I know who feel the aches now as they approach 30 compared to their teens and early twenties when they could do anything.
• The ex-boyfriend who noticed getting up in the morning was harder after he was 26 because aches and pains that were never there … were.
• Me (and others) realizing that “all-nighters” work worse now than when I was in college (the first time).
• Oprah coined it the “quarter life crisis” a decade ago.

I’m not 25 anymore. I’m just past 30. I’m creeping up to my mid-30s. I have aches and pains and a chronic illness. It gives me pause, perspective. The bags under my eyes that weren’t there at 16. The gray hairs that weren’t there before Levi was born. The changing metabolism due to childbearing and Grave’s Disease. The stress of life that lines the corners of my eyes and hides in the shadows of my pupils. How we wear life on our faces and how it shows when we try to get out of bed.

I’m not 25 anymore. I’m not 18. I still feel a tad immortal like a carefree teenager, but I see the other side … the side where youthful exuberance gives way to decrepit old age.

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