Why I love being 33

It is embarrassing how a microscopic amount of success has paralyzed me into inaction. When I started this blog in March, I assumed about three people would be reading it: me, my mom, and me again 10 years from now. After the first month, I had quite a few of my friends - and even a few people I barely knew - say, "I love your blog! It's so much fun!" By April, I was already starting to get paranoid about what I wrote, who I might offend, and, most notably, whether anyone would continue to find my life interesting.

Luckily, I have a friend Lenore across the street who is honest and fearless and occasionally gives me excellent advice, "Write whatever you want to read in ten years and don't worry about anyone else," she said, "otherwise you'll never be able to write anything." With that nugget of good advice and Lenore's parting words to not embarrass Aidan when he reads this later, I have a renewed energy to blog again.  I may still tread lightly on politics and religion - except to occasionally make fun of my hippie church - but who cares? That's not what I'll want to read in ten years anyway. If I could touch base with 23-year-old Rebekah, I would ask her what's good in her life and what keeps her awake at night, not how she feels about legalized marijuana.

Thanks, Lenore. You rule. Obviously. 

This insight inspired me to reflect a bit on what I love about my life right now because that may be of interest to a future self, and hopefully all of you too. So here it is: Things I love about being 33.

My Skin Totally Rocks

I have heard that your 30's are the best decade for your skin and, so far, that is true. My high school years were spent dreading the next breakout or singular pimple that would ruin my world for a week. I would carry concealer around with me to hide blemishes and war an unending campaign against my face with peels, facials, and Biore strips, ultimately seeking professional help from my dermatologist in the form of heat lamps and Retin-A. It was stressful and embarrassing and we didn't even have editing software to get rid of zits in pictures in the 90's. Now, that variable is mercifully absent from my life. On a side note, I just Googled "acne treatments" and on one website the "related resource" was a suicide hotline. Acne is no joke.

As sure as I am that acne made my high school years and early 20's suck, I am equally sure my 40's, 50's, and beyond will be spent fretting over wrinkles. My 30's, however, are the Goldilocks decade for skin. I'm sure it doesn't hurt that I finally stopped tanning with baby oil.

Two thirty-somethings, nary a pimple

I don't waste time watching TV or worrying about boys

Another wonderful thing about being 33 is that I spend minimal time worrying about boys or watching TV (I realize now that these may be two separate topics; oh well, too late).

In my teens and 20's I agonized over every interaction with any boy that was potentially datable. Now, it's simple... I'm taken and I'm happy. I can go about my day and save that valuable headspace for things like work or child-rearing. I watch other friends who are single or in bad relationships spend a significant amount of time embroiled in their boy drama, and, quite frankly, it looks exhausting.

I'm done, I found him

I have also virtually stopped watching TV. It wasn't even something I decided to do, it's just that hardly anything is interesting to me on TV anymore. I still have a few standby shows that I usually watch on Netflix like House of Cards or Orange is the New Black, and I do still like watching movies with the family but that's about it. The time I save is incredible!

I own a home

This may not seem like a big deal if you grew up in rural Arkansas and houses cost like $50, but when you come into adulthood on the Westside of Los Angeles and your parents do not have a couple hundred thousand dollars lying around for a down payment, owning a home can seem like an unattainable dream. I lived in apartments from 19-32 and did not enjoy the vagrant lifestyle that renting entails. It may have taken moving 800 miles east of the ocean, but I finally have a garden and a garage. This was a major win for 33.

One month after moving in

My wardrobe is boss

I was too much of a tomboy to be a fashiony kid, but when I was in my early 20's my job as an outside sales rep for snowboarding companies morphed into a job selling apparel. Though I hated the superficiality of the industry, I became absolutely hooked on the clothes. Every season I would get an entire sample line of clothing and started to have fun mixing and matchings styles. Now, ten years later, I have accumulated a closet of clothes that I love. It's fun to have items from a few years back that I will pull into rotation and discover I love them all over again. That never happened in my 20's a) because my clothes were so cheap and disposable they fell apart after 6 months and b) I had no sense of what looked good on me. One of the ways I spend all that time not watching TV is organizing and reorganizing my closet because it makes me so happy.

The correct way to organize a closet: Jackets - sweaters - shirts - tank tops - dresses - skirts - pants

Parenting has become almost too easy

I recently read in Mindy Kaling's book (highly recommend) that the sweet spot of parenting is raising one 8-year-old child. It's so true!! There is literally nothing I don't like about parenting one happy, healthy, marvelously self-sufficient 8-year-old boy. He gets himself dressed, bathes himself, plays independently, and reads books we can actually talk about. Yet he's young enough to be completely drama-free.

Hard 

Easy

I may start over again at some point, but it is clear that one reason 33 is awesome, is because 2014 Aidan is awesome.

I've stopped agonizing about my weight

Haha. Just kidding. Maybe in my 40's.