You ever notice how the world talks about “aging” like it’s some kind of tragedy?Like the second you hit midlife, you’re supposed to tone it down, take up less space, and start collecting beige sweaters.
No thank you.
I’ve survived enough storms to know this isn’t the end of anything.It’s the beginning of the part where I actually know who I am. I don’t want to be 25 again.
I want to be this version of me—just with fewer deadlines and better shoes.
I’m not getting old, I’m getting dangerously self-assured.And honestly? That’s way more fun.
So tell me—what’s one thing you’re doing now that your younger self would never have had the guts (or wisdom) to do?