Aging is confusing to me. In many ways, like other women, I'm terrified of the changes that will take over your youthful features. But on the other, I've always felt like there is an older version of me watching this rough draft. Watching my mistakes, tsking over my occasional melodrama, and maybe even sometimes applauding my juvenile naivety. I know I will eventually catch up to this older and wiser version but I can't help but to want it faster.

In truth, a lot of things get better with age - relationships, beautifully-made shoes, and perhaps, even oneself. I know I have. Maybe my older self is proudly rocking wrinkles and is one classyass grandma. This version of me just needs to believe that the best has yet to come.