Today is the day…my 50th birthday. Since I was 25, I stopped looking forward to birthdays, but this one in particular I have been dreading the most. I have officially lived half a century, half a lifetime in fact! To be honest, it’s a little frightening to think about. I remember when I was a teenager, I thought 50 years old was ancient. Am I ancient?

I sit in front of my vanity mirror, staring at the stranger in front of me. My eyes lock on to my non-virgin hair falling limply on my shoulders. What once was thick and shiny is now thin and tired from the constant transformations. I look at my face next, taking in the shadows under my large hazel eyes. The skin on my face appears thin and loose, exposing every frown and smile.

I let out an exasperated sigh and proceed to put on my makeup. Using a makeup brush, I apply a thin layer of foundation and blend it into my skin. I then sweep blush over my cheeks and add a dash of highlight above my cheek bones. I finish off my look with some mascara and lock in the makeup with some setting spray.

Moving on to my hair, I toss my head to one side and comb out the tangles. Starting at the bottom most layer, I apply loose curls and then brush them out with my fingers. I pause and take a minute to examine my hair from all angles. Deciding that I’m not happy with the curls, I twist my hair and roll it up into a loose bun. I pull random pieces of hair out from the bun, making them appear as if they fell out in an unplanned, but organized manner. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I decide I am satisfied with the results and make my way to the closet to pick out something to wear.

Feeling like I need to “dress my age,” the first outfit that I try on is blue slacks and a white button up blouse paired with blue flats. I take one look at myself in the mirror and bust out laughing. The blue slacks not only make it appear as if I have surgically removed my butt, but also like my crotch is merely a foot higher than my knees.

My husband knocks on the bedroom door and enters.

“What is so funny in here?” I press my lips together and try to keep a straight face as I turn to face him. He takes one look at my pants and falls over laughing.

“Do these pants make my butt look big?” I turn and stick my butt out as far as possible. We both fall to the ground laughing so hard that tears are falling from our eyes. He stands up again and pulls me to my feet.

“Ok let me see what else I have,” I say, still wiping the tears from my eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean. Those are THE sexiest pants I have ever seen.” He flashes a sexy, playful smile at me.

“Oh I know. I just think they may be a little TOO sexy. I don’t want you to have to fight off a bunch of men all night,” I reply with a wink.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll have to do that no matter what you wear. You could make a plastic bag look sexy.”

I laugh and continue rummaging through the closet. I find a black, knee length cocktail dress with long sleeves at the back of the closet and pull it out. I slip out of my flats and unbutton my pants, letting them fall to the ground. I pull my blouse up over my head and toss it onto the floor next to me. I take the black dress off the hanger and step into it, pulling each sleeve up one at a time. I turn to show my husband and find him wide eyed and mouth agape.

“Do you like it?” I ask nervously. Not sure if his reaction is good or bad.

“Do I like it? Honey, I LOVE it! I swear you get more and more beautiful each year.” I laugh , brushing him off and turn to look at myself in the mirror.

“I’m being serious! You are stunning!” He walks behind me and kisses me on the cheek before leaving the room. I stare back at myself in the mirror. Truly seeing myself for the first time today.

Honestly…he’s right! I look amazing. The dress hugs each of my curves and falls loosely in all the right places. The subtle makeup I applied compliments my best features and my bun shows off my long neck and thin jaw line. I may be 50 years old, but I’ve still got it! I still have my high cheek bones, button nose, and large hazel eyes; and who says wrinkles are a bad thing? They just show how full of laughter my life has been! Feeling confident, I fish through the furthest corner in the closet and pull out a pair of strapped neon pink heels. After putting on the heels, I meet my husband at the car and we make our way downtown.

We arrive at the bar and begin searching for our friends. We see them waving us down from a round booth in the back left corner and make our way over there. A prickle of nerves hits me as I second guess the neon heels. Should I have chosen something more modest? I make eye contact with my friend Trisha and she jumps out of the booth and rushes over to hug me.

“Happy Birthday!!! She hugs me and then pulls back to take a look at me.

“You look amazing!”

“Thank you, so do you!” I reply back. More of our friends come over to greet us and wish me a happy birthday.

“I love your shoes! Where did you get them?” My friend Hannah asks.

“Yeah, they are so cute!” Trish chimes in. My shoulders relax and a smile spreads across my face.

“Nordstroms Rack I believe. Honestly this is the first time I have worn them,” I reply with a shrug.

“Well they are really cute.” The ladies reply, agreeing with one another.

“Thank you,” I say with a smile forever painted on my face.

After the greetings are out of the way, everyone settles back into the booth. We all order drinks and spend the evening laughing and enjoying ourselves. As the night comes to an end, we all say goodbye to one another and my husband and I make our way home.

Once home, we make our way inside and take off our shoes. I carry my heels to my bedroom and open the closet door. I move a pair of boring flats from the top shelf of the shoe rack and set my neon pink heels down in its place. Taking a step back, I admire my new favorite pair of shoes and smile. Happy 50th birthday to me.