New year, new blogging challenge. This week, blogging buddy Bill challenged a bunch of us to write posts about how old we feel (you can find his post here!). With my own birthday just 7 weeks away, it does seem like a great time to reflect on how old I am and how my mortal husk is decaying.

Like Bill, I also feel as though decade birthdays have some significance, and 30 is coming way faster than seems possible. This year, I’ll be 29, so I can hold off 30 for one more year…plus, every time I remember how old I am, I remind myself that I will never be as old as my fiancé Dan, and I feel so much better.

Back when my dad turned 50, I asked him if he felt any different after reaching another decade, and he told me that no age hit him harder than 30.

Well, isn’t that just peachy? Can’t wait to have that to look forward to.

I’ve written before on my blog about how my body began to age and change in my 20s, and I can still definitively say: IT. SUCKS.

I remember originally going through some of my bodily changes while dating editor Josh back in my mid-twenties. I will say that it was so beneficial to have an older partner guide me through the changes that I was going through, because I was truly starting to panic and think there was something wrong with me. But no, it was just my body getting older and hating me.

Back when I was 23, I went from being able to eat sugar for breakfast, lunch, and dinner to feeling ill after having one too many cookies. And I don’t mean “one too many” like 20, I mean “one too many” like 3. It was great to have Josh remind me that when you get older, these things just change. Now, I get to pass this knowledge onto Dan and my dad as they go through some similar changes. You read that correctly, Dan is going through these changes in his early 30s and Dad is going through them in his late 50s. Feel free to hate my dad for getting away with having a seemingly iron stomach for so long.

Beyond the digestive changes (of which there are many), my joints also seem less resilient than before. My knees ache and cramp when I sit cross-legged for too long, and my fingers cramp when I open a hard-to-open jar. I come by these issues honestly — my Gommy (Dad’s mom) was about to have knee surgery before she passed last December while my Pop-pop (Mom’s dad) had knee surgery a bit ago. Both of my grandmothers have/had issues with their fingers, and my mom, dad, and both of my dad’s sisters also have hand and finger issues. Isn’t aging fun?

Nowadays, it’s not only my body that can’t handle stress. My brain also struggles. I used to live life constantly pushed to the brink of a mental breakdown and powered through. I would wake up at 6 am and be out of the house on the go until 8 pm every day for an entire semester. Lately, if I have one week where I don’t have any time to destress, I start barreling towards a meltdown. And these meltdowns aren’t the run-of-the-mill-quick-cry-then-back-to-it of yesteryear. These meltdowns are shrieking-at-the-top-of-my-lungs-and-curling-into-a-fetal-position meltdowns. This mental breakdown ticking clock moves even faster when I don’t get enough sleep.

In the sleep area, however, I am incredibly consistent. Ever since I was young, I would turn into a pumpkin at night and essentially fall asleep wherever I am. Like a little old lady, I like to tuck in for the night early. I’ve never been one to go to late-night activities that mean that I’ll be in bed past my bedtime. Raging party that starts at 10? No thank you, I have some Z’s to catch. Hell, most New Year’s Eves, I fall asleep before midnight and have to be woken up to watch the ball drop.

All this combined with the fact that one of my primary hobbies is doing puzzles and Billy Joel is the most-played artist on my phone (my classic rock playlist is also one of my most-played playlists) makes me seem far older than I really am.

I still have monthly hormonal acne, though, which just generally seems unfair.

Something tells me that if I were to plug all of this into some random BuzzFeed quiz, it would say that I’m in my mid-sixties, which is fine with me! Age is but a number, folks! Just remember to be kind to your mind and body, no matter your real age (or the age you feel like). 

Thank you, Bill for the tag! If anyone else wants to jump in and write about this, go for it, just remember to tag me and Bill in your post.