Every once in awhile, I hear someone in my age range—middle age—say they wish they were “young again”.  I smile and wander slowly away, thinking to myself, “Are they crazy?!”  Who wants to go back there?!

All that fear of the future and regret for the past.  All of the dating frustrations and indecisiveness.  The emotional upheavals.  I wouldn’t go back to being younger for all the male strippers in Vegas!  I have finally come to a place in my life where, if I don’t have a date on Friday night, who cares?  Maybe I’ll go play my congas in the park.  Or maybe I’ll ask someone out. 

When I look in the mirror, there are more lines than there used to be, but that’s okay.  Most of the crinkles in my face are there because of smiling.  I’m at peace with that. 

I am at the point in my life where I can do what I want, when I want.  WHY would I EVER want to trade that in on being told what to do, and where to go?

Yes, this is the life.  So what if half of it is over?  This half is great!