Time doesn't agree with me

Next month I'll be 29.

On March 5th I'll officially start the last year of being twenty something. What do I have to show for my youth? My figure sucks. My hair is limp and plain. My skin still fights puberty for some damn reason. My voice is forever changing yet always the same. I sound too young to be taken seriously. My physicality is in Intensive Care. Running is out of the question. Being active in general is so tiresome now. I get body pain. BODY PAIN! How can I be this damn old...or in the words of a country song "I'm much too young to feel this damn old". But am I young anymore?

It feels like I never had that moment in my life that I was at a perfection. A pretty time period. Where maybe I could turn a head or two. That's vanity for you! Deep down we all want to be some type of perfect. Some type of pretty. What would I do with the attention? Nothing. Just maybe wouldn't feel so encased by my cage of insecurity. My sisters were the pretty ones in every mans eyes. They had confidence with that and despite how much I would hate living their lives I envied their freedom found inside them that they used to live it.

My faith makes me happy. HA! Faith is actually my sister's name but I'm talking about literal "Faith". My God makes me happy.......okay he's your God too but I'm his favorite. :-P My family makes me happy. Not all my family but the few close to me and of course my husband and children. I wish for my daughters I could be a pretty mother. I wish for my husband I could be a beautiful wife. If you could see how absolutely handsome he is you would know how absolutely insecure I am with him.

The irony is I'm too old in my opinion but too young to be seen as a threat in art shows. At least mine sell. So neener neener..

Time doesn't agree with me. But time keeps moving on. Even when you take the batteries out I can hear the clock ticking away. I do so miss the sun dial.