Being 39.

At fourteen, I remember thinking that when I grew up I wouldn’t be able to keep my signature hairstyle of bangs across my forehead anymore. (I was very insecure about my five head and my bangs were a way of concealing my high forehead hahahaha.  No adult woman around me had any short bangs as far as I could see.

I didn’t want to be a grown up. 

At twenty, I looked at the people whose blogs I read religiously on livejournal who had graduated university ahead of me. Their lives looked miserable, waking up before dawn to go to work, having to stick to an office dress code, not having any free time except for weekends. 

I didn’t want to graduate. 

At twenty three, I remember looking at my boss who 26 and thinking to myself, how old he was. He was only three years older than me and not even married btw. 

I didn’t want to be 26. 

Turning thirty, I told myself, better appreciate the time you have left, Aud. In ten years time, you’ll have to swap out your denim shorts for slacks and cellulite is going to come calling. Your kids are going to be outgrow their cuteness and be lanky and decidedly not adorable. No 40 year old influencers have made the jump, your career is headed for a downturn. 

Now I am 39. 

I did graduate and get a job. I worked long hours on weekdays and sometimes on weekends too. I got married and had kids. I would like to sleep in until 12 pm but my brain and body just don’t let me anymore. I got cellulite, and then stretch marks, and a big old caesarean scar. I lost a cup size. I got crows feet and sun spots. I found my first white hair last year. 

Slacks are still not my thing although I did switch out my tiny shorts for longer ones (only because they’re trendy). 

I still have my bangs across my forehead, a style I’ve kept since I was a toddler. 

The world tells us our youth is the best time of our life. We’re young, beautiful and we have the world at our feet.

I’m long done with my twenties and in nine months I’ll be finished with my thirties. 

18 year old Aud may have seen aging as a downward decline but if you asked me one whether I’d turn back time and be 25 again, the answer is no. 

At 25, I still didn’t know what I wanted in life. I had a secure job but I was working for the sake of working and paying off my student loans only. I remember working but not knowing what I was contributing. I struggled to get clients to trust me because of how young I looked and how unconfident I sounded. 

I remember switching multiple hairstyles in my early 20s - long and black, short bob, extensions again, brown, red, ash, trying out new styles like trying on new identities. 

I remember feeling adrift. Friends had been a huge part of my life up till then but in the years after college as people leave the relative security of a campus and move cities or countries for jobs and family, our social networks get stretched and torn. My best friend Angela was in Vancouver, and my constants Suet and Jammie moved between rural Malaysia, London, Melbourne and Singapore. 

I tried on different best friends. They were what I needed at that point in my life (and hopefully I was for them too) but we all kept changing and growing and in the end it’s hard to keep someone if your values are too different.

When I think back on my twenties the overwhelming feeling was how uncertain I felt. 

Today I still don’t  know many things. But I do know that I’m more sure about myself than I ever was. 

I’m sure about my marriage. I never spoke explicitly about it but in the early years  when the kids were mere babies, our marriage was on rocky ground. Honestly we’re both very different people now from when we got married and it took us years of patience and effort to get here but right now we are the strongest we’ve ever been. I’m not a princess to his knight, nor is he the ATM machine to my trad wife lol. We are real partners in life. We survived preeclampsia and depression after all. *high fives Tim wtf

The critters area long past their chubby, wobbly legged days. They’re lanky and toned now with their own social lives, interests and language (skibidi toilet anyone wtf). At 25 I hated kids especially the primary school age ones hahahaha. But these two? I love them more and more every day. They’re objectively not as cute as say a two year old but skibidi toilet aside I find them way more interesting. As they grow our conversations deepen, our bonds strengthen, and honestly it’s like having two new best friends in my life. Their jokes are hilarious, their ideas simultaneously ingenious and wacky, their zest for life and us a joy to watch.  It’s honestly a privilege to be able to watch them develop and be there for them while they take their turn in finding their own personalities. 

I have more money now. That’s not saying a lot but that’s a real perk of being older. I can reward myself without feeling guilty! (Although I still do wtf need to work on this more) 

My content creator career? The one that allowed me to pay off my student loans, that I was so sure would die out any day? Somehow it’s still going strong. I kept up with changing trends and new social media platforms that keep mushrooming and I managed to maintain or even grow my following. Thank you for being here and even reading this! Maybe I’ll still be blogging and making TikToks when I’m 70. 

Besides that I found other things that fuel me. Building Colony. Making work spaces that make people go wow when they walk in. Helping people and sharing knowledge about children and parenting. 

I’m physically fitter now. I may have the odd silver hair and my stomach will never be that flat again. I may have no boobs wtf but now I also have a butt lol. I still can’t open my own bottles but I have ab lines! I can run up and down the stairs without getting tired. My monthly migraines  have disappeared. I can’t eat two bowls of rice a meal anymore nor sleep in until 12 but I don’t necessarily want to do those things either. 

I’m braver now and more certain.

When we age, we usually get established in our careers, we’re respected for our viewpoints and maybe we don’t have to prove ourselves as much now. Maybe we stop caring as much. Maybe we’ve seen the worst and it’s not so bad after all. Maybe we realise we’re not getting younger. Maybe we get grumpier! Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’ve experienced enough to know what I like and what I don’t, what’s wrong or right, and I’d rather let it be known.  

I understand myself better even if there are a lot of things that have come up that I wasn’t aware of. But at least now I know who I am. And that’s worth more than having a head full of black hair and smooth supple skin.

I wrote this because this is how I’ve been feeling. I’m sure there people in their 20s who are sure of what they wanted even then and that’s amazing. That just wasn’t my experience. I’m also aware that not everyone in their 30s feel the same way as me; just because my life is going well right this moment doesn’t mean it always will be or that everyone my age is in the same life progression. But I wrote this to present another pov that growing older isn’t always painful, in fact it can be quite wonderful.