I'm 37 now and I've loved the process of getting here far more than I ever thought I might. I love the relinquishment of a following of society's standards that I didn't have a voice in creating to begin with. I love the fact that I'm no longer in the 'hottie contest' and that in this singular disregarding, I can truly be myself. There's no longer all-consuming pressure to conform to stringent physical standards. The only Beauty choice I feel buttressed up against is the question of 'should I pursue greater physical health or not.' My four little Watchers provide me my immediate answer, but otherwise, I'm free to chase the wind and be the best Me I can be. I find that that usually entails serving others and trying to best love them in a way that feels meaningful to them. Now when I go for runs, no car full of desperate eighteen-year-olds hoot out the window. Nor do they holler. They simply leave me in the peace of my small bubble of contentment that doesn't find me preoccupied with wondering how my bum looks in these running pants.