40, Fibro, and Fabulous
I remember my friends and I joking about being 40 in middle school. I was a pretty clumsy kid and everyone, including myself, thought I'd be in a wheelchair by the time I hit 40 because of how accident-prone I was. I know now that most of my clumsiness was due to having Fibromyalgia. I just didn't know that at the time. The big 4, O is coming up for me in early May, and though I'm not as agile as I used to be, I'm not, thankfully, in a wheelchair as was once predicted for my future. Still, 40 used to be this big deal when I was growing up. I remember all of these women who were my mother's age talking about how they still felt young, even though half of their life was supposedly over. About a decade or so ago, 50 and 60 became the new 40. Everyone from Oprah and Cher to Madonna was weighing in on that young age. I personally remember 30 being a big deal to me. I felt old, but not the kind of old that you may think. I felt wise, both spiritually and ment