Today, on I CAN CONTROL THE FUTURE WITH MY FEELINGS: For whatever reason, 36 feels like a safe, good, young age to me. There’s a roundness to it, a lightness, a youth. But then I think about turning 37 next year, and it has a danger, a sharpness, an oldness. 38 feels round again, safe and young again, but in an old way. 39 feels like a cliff, 40 like campground at high elevation with built in firepits,  a stunning view. Even, odd. I now know that I will turn 37 and not yet be a mom (tho perhaps in growth stage?)  I keep fixating on that number and punishing myself for it. I also keep fixating on the ages of women younger than me, who already have their kids / are currently growing them, and I keep feeling behind, like I’m supposed to be ahead but not, which is another way to say behind, which I already said, because I feel it to the point of repetition. And so, I’ll remind myself here:

Things that are NOT competitions:

• who breathes the most per minute
• who grows their hair the fastest
• Having Kids

Things that ARE competitions:

• Races
• The Great British Baking show
• Competitions