Living the 30's & Loving It!

Why is it considered just plain rude to ask a woman about her age?

AGE is the much dreaded question that women, from all walks of life, have tried to avoid answering or at least, they make a white lie out of it. Age has always been a nemesis to the modern femme, where the battle for beauty and youth had never been this glamorized . And if this is not enough, there are plenty of huge names in the cosmetics industry, promising an elixir of youth, that made totally big time out of our insecurities.

On a muggy Saturday morning, I woke up lazily with a heavy sigh on my lips: It's my birthday and I am 31. THIRTY ONE! It was like some one's screaming inside my head. I can't believe it! My very cells were magnified and I can suddenly see all those frown lines, dark circles, and dark spots in a microscopic level. Everything seems larger and sadly, uglier. It was like yesterday, I slept as a fresh and vibrant 17-year old only to wake up transported into an older body. The mirror, which used to be my best friend, suddenly turned to be my greatest foe. I just can't believe the truth: I am aging. Now, I suddenly understand the evil queen's fascination with her magic mirror: " Who's the fairest one of all? "

I, then, dashed off to the nearest beauty store, finding great finds to restore the youth I have lost. It's so frustrating to buy all those pricey anti-ageing serums and creams to delay the further damages of the sun, the environment, and my biological make-up itself without suffering the grin of the younger sales clerk feeling prettier than life itself. Suddenly, the desire to look younger takes on a drastic hold that I have casted evil eyes to women who were younger than I am. I would even say to myself that I was more beautiful when I was at their age.

The most embarrassing part is having dates who would give you all the praises fit for a queen until these age-centric men hear your real age. Then, you would see older men with younger women, lock in each other's hands, strolling lazily down the street. It sometimes makes me think how lucky men are that age isn't a barrier in finding a partner. The richer and more successful men are, the more attractive they become. But having the same trait in a woman leaves her suffering the angst of singleness.

In the end... Does it all come down to the biological aspect of the thirty-something blues?

We have heard a lot of bachelorette out there saying that their biological clock is ticking. The pressures of being a sophisticated woman with a mind of her own and bringing life to this world makes women rush off to fit into their wedding dresses and settle down for good. It is a conflict between dreams and expectations that makes women at their thirties feel so insecure with the so-called emptiness in their lives. And if this isn't enough to push women into a state of depression, our homes our filled with glossy pages of magazines making us feel lesser than our precious selves.

I believe that being thirty and still single is a right cause for panic... if I don't feel good enough about myself. Yes, I do miss a couple of girl friends who can't join me for a ladies night out because they have to stay at home to take care of their families. Yes, I do get jealous of neighbors carrying their cute little babes. Yes, I do want to share my life with a special someone who will love me for who and what I am.

BUT... this doesn't mean I am a lesser being because I am not those of the above. I am thirty-something...and so what? I am smarter and wiser, loving myself just the way I deserved to be loved. There is always the possibility that I, too, will end up the way society expects a woman will... For now, I live life to the fullest, aging with style and grace.

" Live free. Love free. Feel free... "