A quick note. My fella is taking me to dinner tonight, for my birthday. I need to go don a frock and makeup etc.
I have celebrated it by doing Crossfit. Front-squatting 40kg with perfect technique and to full depth, glutes powering away.
(FYI - squats are very important for healthy ageing - many older people can't get up off a low chair without using their arms, so get onnit).
I think my 37 year old self is stronger than my 36 year old self.
Definitely in a physical sense, as I have guns (the bicep kind) and glutes, and I know how to use them.
It's not a bravado kind of strong, it's about pushing through and not giving up despite the fears. Perhaps that takes inner confidence, but I still have my share of self-doubt. I just don't bow down to it.
I feel more comfortable in my skin than this time a year ago, having made some peace with the fact that I am unlikely to ever be a size 8, or even 10 or a small 12.
I still feel self-conscious about the space I take up in the world. Somewhat uncomfortably, I will ask for things, that I will make my presence known, but I have stopped apologising for it.
As I get older, I am getting more "angry feminist". I was describing what I needed to do at the beauty parlour today. My fella called it pampering. I asked "since when is ripping your pubes and stray eyebrows out by their roots pampering?". While I like to challenge the dominant patriarchal paradigm, I still like to look tidy, and have no handlebar mustache activity in a swimsuit. I am also starting to recognise where men have it easier, particularly in a career advancement sense.
As Oscar Wilde said, to be happy, it's necessary not to be too intelligent. So I temper my observations with a good bit of humour and sense of the absurd.
Today, I feel happy and proud of my 37 year old self.