I am, by some standards, at that perfect age in life - where I am old enough to do everything but not too old for anything. Many people, women in particular, seem to spend their whole lives longing to be (or at least appear to be) in this exact stage.
This week, a simple, but profoundly comforting thought has come to me: I think that I will like myself when I am old. I like myself well enough right now, but, when I consider my trajectory, I think that I will find even more beauty, more to love in the person I am in the process of becoming.
At 50 or 70 or even 90, I know that Texas summers will have taken their toll on my skin - but I think those wrinkles will hold a great deal of wisdom. My thighs will have inevitably grown larger, but I think my heart will have expanded even more. My cool gray hair will hopefully be a sign that I, over the course of many years, have grown less hot-tempered and more inclined to be still, to contemplate, and to pray.
So be patient with me in the meantime. When I am impulsive or selfish or mean or just plain stubborn, remember: I'm growing out of it... and, hopefully, you, too, will like the me I am when I am old.