21 is a tricky age. You reach the international age of consent (which is relative as in some countries, as a women I would still not be allowed to drive or own property). Even Americans consider you old enough to drink alcohol now. But what happens after that glorious age?
While every birthday before 21, comes with a few more privileges and responsibilities (which is relative, I am a student) 21 marks a turning point. Nothing positive is about to arrive with another birthday (retirement age and discounts are too far away to be considered at this point) You just get old. You l catch yourself taking a closer look at those fine lines on your forehead or around your eyes and suddenly time seems to pass way too quickly.
While I always knew that aging is an inevitable part of life I didn’t expect that it would happen so soon. My body doesn’t forgive hangovers so easily anymore, I am suddenly interested in ‘boring’ subjects, such as the economy. I perceive the section about anti-age products now in a complete new light and read it with a certain look of desperation on my face (that is before I remember that this face expression actually causes more wrinkles, so I try to look happy and relaxed again).
That said, aging also has its advantages: life experience. I don’t expect a classy interior or audience in bar that sells vodka mixers for 2 pounds and I stay away from cheap shoes that are made out plastic (blisters, broken heels, painful walks home). I’ve also turned to carrying a flat pair of shoes on long nights out for the way home and I know when I can’t have another glass of wine.
After sorting out my closet, last summer, my first year in my twenties just over, I was quite relieved to dumb my fashion disasters in the Charity box. I’m glad that the years of Low-Rise Jeans, “funny” Slogan T-shirts and obscure neon pink belts are gone, never to return again. I’ve kept the skinny jeans, which I have “outgrown” somewhere between studying for my High-School diploma and acquiring a few american eating habits just in case I miraculously grow Gisele legs overnight. But overall I’ve made peace with my body and weight, trying to eat reasonably healthy and sticking to exercise, I enjoy. I don’t suffer from major self-esteem blows when I get a dress a size bigger than normal and I’ve rationalized the evilness of dressing room lighting and party photos to the point that I avoid the first and delete or alternatively blackmail friends with non-flattering pictures of them.
With the years, the list of challenges and solved problems becomes longer and the list of things, that freak you out gets progressively shorter. In my case, this means that insecurity and shyness around new people has diminished (most people, who get to know me now, don’t believe how terribly shy I was when I was a child and teenager) and talking in front of a larger group of people doesn’t seems like an unsurmountable obstacle anymore. I’ve stopped almost completely to take interest in gossip about me, except for the good kind 🙂 and it has become much harder for rude waiters, shop assistants and bus drivers to spoil my day.
With every added year, standards rise, in style, in going out destinations, in travels and maybe most importantly men. This is in general a good thing, unless you want to go to binge-drinking clubs until you are thirty to pick up a “bad boy”, who plays in a “band” and thinks he is cool because of the occasional consumption of illegal substances.
Having travelled quite a lot, and living in my third country now, I’ve also massively expanded my circle of friends (I’m talking about the real ones, not about facebook friends). Conveniently they are scattered all over the world and visiting them is the perfect excuse to travel even more. For no wondrous wrinkle reduction treatment in the world I would trade in all the people, I’ve met on my travels.
So, yeah, maybe getting older is not so bad, after all.
Now, can someone recommend an effective anti-aging product that gets rid of these lines on my forehead?