35

The year I was turning 30, I found a tiny line under my eye. I waged war, calling my Mary Kay representative and ordering the anti-aging cleanser and moisturizer and eye cream. I used them religiously - for a week or so. I didn't like the way the eye cream felt on my face.

Today, I turn 35. A lot has changed. I don't care so much about that tiny line. To be honest, I don't even look for it any more. I haven't "given up" but some things don't matter any more. My skin is still oily. I have weird hairs that come out of strange places (my throat? WTF, biology?). I wear less makeup. I still pluck out random white hairs but I no longer look for them. Not frequently, anyway. I've learned to let go. Not let myself go, but let go of the little things that don't matter. Will my family think less of me if I have tiny lines around my eyes? Will my friends stop being my friends if I have shiny skin?

No.

At thirty, I had lots of anxiety about my age. At 35, I have peace.