15 vs 51

A friend brought over two candles for my cake this week and popped them on the counter.

I looked at them and could not figure out for the life of me how they could possibly be mine.

I know that sounds foolish but I really have not thought much about the numbers lately. Those devils took me a bit by surprise.

They looked so ugly to me lying there on my counter. Fatty, frumpy 5 and boring, steadfast 1.

I switched them around and thought about 15.

And then 15 VS 51.

And this is what I came up with.

 

At 15

I did not particularly like my body

I did not take care of my body

I wasn’t very funny

I was an early bloomer.

I was a little shy

I did not know my whole life was ahead of me

I had good friendships but not great friendships

I loved my family but wanted to break away

I did not understand my passions

I had nothing to write about but wanted to write

I did not know how to work hard.

I was mature for my age.

I was somewhat awkward.

I was afraid of a few things.

I did not know what I was good at.

I thought my nose was big.

I did not feel beautiful.

Sometimes I felt 51.

 

At 51

I love my body.

I take care of it.

I love my family and want more time with them.

I have deep and amazing friendships with very fine people.

I am funny.

I know my whole life is ahead of me.

I am a late bloomer.

I understand and live my passions.

I have much to write about.

I know how to work hard.

I am immature for my age.

I don’t  feel awkward.

I am not afraid of anything anymore.

I am not shy.

I know what I am good at.

I know my nose is big.

I feel beautiful.

I feel 15.

 

Give me those candles the way they fall.

 

Maybe each year we are in our prime. And it keeps getting primer.

 

4 thoughts on “15 vs 51

  1. Oh my, thank you for that post Nancy. It really hit the spot. I will be 54 this summer and the numbers just don’t make sense to me. I actually have to think of my birth year and do the math quite often, when I try and remember how old I am! It is becoming more of an abstract concept for me, which may just be denial, I’m not sure. Either way, I am less attached to the numbers and more to the refinement of who I am as a person walking my path.

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