There are four-hundred and forty-five days to the first day of the fourth decade of my life; four-hundred and forty-five days until I turn thirty.
Somewhere in my mid twenties I lost track of myself. Kids were born; hormones were kicked out of whack; depression happened; marriage happened; food was used as a mood moderator, a boredom buster, an excuse; I stopped recognizing myself, and then started again. Through it all I learned that my worth and identity are not tied to my looks. I learned that I am beautiful to the people around me, even when I am not beautiful to myself. I learned that I appreciate being complimented for something other than how I look. I learned that my intelligence and drive are my two best assets. That’s significant, because ten years ago I would have told you my two best assets were physical. I am proud of who I have become. But I have also learned that my body is the only vehicle I have to further my work, that it is what carries my mind from point A to point B, and that I can and should take care of both.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life.