<a href="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/3085533992_88f78ec934.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-285" title="3085533992_88f78ec934" src="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/3085533992_88f78ec934.jpg" alt="" width="466" height="332" /></a>
<h5 style="padding-left: 330px;">Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/shaun/">Judith Green</a></h5>
Today's my birthday. I've always found birthdays, as an adult, to be somewhat odd. The strangeness has become even more pronounced since having kids of my own.

<strong>It seems silly to make a big to-do over your own birthday</strong>, or to secretly hope someone else will throw together a huge birthday bash. <strong>But it's really kind of sad to let it pass without a festive nod of some sort.</strong> Do you feel that way, too?

Similarly, as a blogger it feels funny to draw attention to my birthday by writing about it, but it feels wrong to let it pass by without mention.

Sigh. I guess this is just the kind of state I'm in right now. I'm going to acknowledge it, accept it, and share with you a few of the thoughts that are in my mind today. (And then I'll get back to all of the wonderful sharing you all did on my last post. Promise!)
<h4>Age has a whole lot to do with context</h4>
I'm turning 39 today, which feels like a big deal. It seems so impossible, and sounds so <em>old</em>! Living in a university town as I've approached 40 has really thrown me. Everywhere I look, I see 19-year-olds. I need to find out what the mean age in this town is, compared to a typical city. Whatever it is, it's definitely mean.

<strong>After my divorce, at 33, I was suddenly VERY aware of my age.</strong> I had my kids, so it wasn't a biological clock thing, but I sensed how old I was getting—in a hurry. A new clock ticking. It was the "I have a small window of time to meet a new man while I'm still relatively hot" clock. It's kind of embarrassing to admit this, but it was definitely going through my head.

When I met Jason, who is five years younger than me, I clearly had scored BIG. But at first, I was self-conscious about our age difference—it made me feel older, not younger. I've gradually gotten over that, though, and we feel like exactly the same age. The oldest of our three girls is his, which somehow evens it out. We were both born in the 1970s, too, which helps in some bizarre psychological way. And women live longer then men. Especially women in my family. Both of my grandmothers are in their 90s.
<h4>Embracing this reality, without a grudge</h4>
I've also, in the past year, experienced an overall shift in how I think about age. <strong>For the first time in probably five years, I feel great about how old I am.</strong> The fact that I'm even publishing my age here on my blog shows great progress. I think a couple of different things have helped me embrace my near-40 state.

One is that I still regularly get mistaken for someone ten years younger. I am consistently amused by this, but I'm not complaining. A little hair color, somewhat regular exercise, and the fact that I inherited my grandmother's amazing skin and my parents' metabolism go a long way.

The other is that I've met all kinds of really wonderful people this past year, on Twitter and on their blogs. These people are funny, smart, interesting, and full of wisdom and wit. And most of them are <em>my age or even older!</em> I kid you not!

This was like a revelation to me, living in this town with so many 20-year-old hotties. <strong>As it turns out, and as so many of you have demonstrated, being near-40 is hot.</strong>

I have experiences to draw on and stories to tell. I have stretch marks to wear proudly like war wounds, constant reminders of how my children made it onto this earth. I find I just don't spend time worrying about so many of the silly things I used to stress about, because I have a much bigger picture to place them in, and I'm able to realize how little they really matter in that big picture.

<strong>In short, I've finally figured out how to really like and accept myself, exactly as I am.</strong> And it ultimately doesn't matter what age any of us is at when that happens—it's bound to be a beautiful one.