Thirty something ain't so bad

Life is good right now at this moment. I never thought that my thirties would wax so lovely. Yes, I can see the subtle, early effects of gravity. Effects that I know will only get worse. Sure, I had to finally break down and highlight my hair in a valiant attempt to camouflage the gray that mocked me every morning in the mirror. And my body just can't take eating junk food except in extreme moderation. The effects of that, well, I find those harder to live with than the effects of gravity. Maybe because it is something under my control.

But not all the physical changes have been bad. My twenty something self thought that my love life was good, great even. Boy, I hadn't seen anything yet. I have a stable, loving relationship and nothing can deepen an intimate encounter like that can. It frees you up to truly relax and not worry about stupid little things that really can suck all pleasure out of the whole experience. By your thirties, you know exactly what does it for you and how to get there. And a man who knows you inside and out, can take you there and back again. Which leaves me with the sad fact that there are a lot of twenty somethings out there having really bad sex.

It is not just the physicality of it. The mechanics are the same no matter what, but the level of intimacy changes. My thirties have taught me to appreciate my husband more. Thirty something Jen will take 40-something Randy any day over the 30 year old he was when we first met. He's always had a steadiness and graceful masculinity that I find appealing, but in his maturity, it has grown into something deep and male that calls to me. Younger men seem so callow and stupid. I guess I don't have it in me to go cougar.

He's not perfect. Neither am I. But he's perfect for me even if he really irks the heck out of me sometimes. The thing is, I know he's going to do things that piss me off, and now, it is easier to shrug my shoulders and say, "I love him anyway." Ten years ago, it wasn't so easy to do that. But I've learned to appreciate all the fantastic things about him, which greatly outnumber the annoying. I've learned that I don't want to hike through life with anybody else. I married him because I loved him and wanted him, but getting married is easy; it is the sticking with it that can have its tumultuous spots. After a decade of ups and downs and numerous, military induced separations, I am confident of our staying power. He's my best pal and my sounding board.

My kids are growing. The baby stage is over, and sometimes my heart breaks over that and yet, as it weeps, it revels in this growing freedom to discover myself and to rediscover the deep love I have always had for my husband.

Aging also gives you a gift. It eludes most people in their youth: An acceptance, an appreciation of what lies before you. By this point, I have learned that I control very little in life. Letting go is hard to do, but so liberating once it is done.

So, yeah, the thirties have turned out to be better than I thought, which makes me think that the forties look very promising.