Today is my birthday. Most of the time I just don’t really care about my birthday. I am happy to be alive and to complain or whine about aging seems kind of selfish to me. If I didn’t age, my kids wouldn’t get to grow up and have their own lives. Honestly, the thing about aging that bothers me most is around the way that I look. I have never felt comfortable in my skin. I have my moments, but my insecurities far outweigh any positive feelings about my physical person, and now I have granny skin and I hate my hair and my saggy parts.

It’s really strange to me to think about the many manifestations of myself that have existed over the years. There was a Tricia that loved to run. She worked hard to get faster and run further. She was spectacular, and she disappeared sometime ago, and I couldn’t tell you when that was. There was a Tricia that would write down so many of her inner thoughts and feelings. She told the internet all about her children and then her children started to grow and their lives felt more private. And then Tricia got a smart phone and became extra dumb. I distract myself from creative thinking with TikTok and Happy Color.

There was a Tricia that went to the farmers market every Saturday. One that went to church. One that bit her nails. One that was much fatter. One that was skinnier. One that was definitely healthier. That was probably the one the cooked at home instead of getting fast food way too often.

This Tricia reads books. She has a job that she loves. She doesn’t exercise nearly enough but has recently started doing Pilates at a studio and it’s been great. She is so incredibly proud of all of her children, all for different reasons. She is still so in love with her husband. Her dog makes her happy and so does sleeping in.