Fervid Princess...I feel the same way about my little sister. (she's 24) She recently had me weave her hair in big chunks....white blonde, and a very dark red. (Her hairdresser couldn't fit her in.) She's blonde, like me, but she's dyed her hair black, red, light blonde and now this multicolor do. I admire that she isn't afraid to redefine herself...and that she doesn't care what anyone thinks about it. I didn't stop caring about what people thought about me until I turned 40.FervidPrincess said:
Happy birthday next month. I remember feeling that way at 25 too. At 25 I had finished College, had a high paying job in banking, worked an average 70 hour plus week, was married to a jerk, Had had 3 miscarriages and had unfortunately had had a nervous breakdown. So....I don't think 25 is all that young. Well, at least it wasn't for me.hisbloodformysins said:I'm turning 25 next month, and though some of you still view that as pretty young, I'm starting to worry about getting old. Never done that before. I feel like it won't be long before I'm not in my youth anymore, and I'm already losing my mind, wait a second, what was I saying???
Oh well, we can't stay young forever, plus my mom says they're advantages to getting older, like getting smarter.
Don't worry about getting old. Worrying is a waste of time. Getting older is great. The older I get the more I like myself and my life. The less I care what people think of me. I love being in my 40's. As long as I'm fortunate enough to not suffer any serious injury or illness....I'm really looking forward to the rest of my life.
I loved that movie. It still resonates with me. And I can relate to your feelings about your son. I have a picture of my husband holding our first born. I know they say that a picture is worth a thousand words...but it's not usually true. This picture however captures a gread deal of that emotion. I'm married to a very manly man. He's not one to complain or get upset over anything trivial. The few times he's ever cried I can count on one hand. Our wedding, when each of our 3 children was born, and when his mother had a stroke.stillsmallvoice said:
Your birthday is November 15th 1958? Mine is November 14th 1962. I didn't know that our birthdays were so close together. Or did I? They say the memory is the first thing to go.dsdumpling said:
Well, I've been painting the inside of my son's closett. I was hoping to get at least that much done so that we could get his cloths put away and his room back together. My husband said he was going to help me. But...looks like he's not. The last time we painted he did this too. He say's "we' when he really means "me".
I don't know why I always fall for what people tell me. But I always do. Does anyone else think it's weird to not be jaded at my age? With all the stuff I've dealt with...you would think I would be a complete cynic. Oh well...painting is hard work! My hands are killing me. But at least 1/3 of my work on the wall is done. I think that's how you can tell you're getting old. In my mind I'm not a whole lot different than I was 20 years ago. A little wiser sure. But I don't think of myself as old. Until I try to do something like paint walls. I remember this stuff being hard when I was in my 20's. But now it is unbelievably hard. And I'm not out of shape...in case you wondered. I run 5 miles a day. And still....I'm wiped out from this painting business.
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