I’ve never been one to shy away from my age. If someone asks, I don’t blush with embarrassment or scold the inappropriateness of asking a lady such a question, or think Good grief, another birthday? Why would I? I’m not embarrassed of my age or of the life I’ve built in that time. And saying that age ain’t nothing but a number couldn’t be further from the truth either; it’s much much more than just a number. Age is another chapter in our story, a story we are continually telling, a story that serves as proof that we were here and that we conquered life. We are warriors. We are the heroes of our stories. We are the protagonist and the antagonist. We are the leading role if we choose to be, a choice that starts with simple decisions like owning your chapters. What is a 96 chapter book, if not a long, well lived story full of experiences and heartbreak and metamorphic changes, a marker of where we are and the journey we’ve traveled.

In chapter 18, I was a senior in high school with 3 jobs, eager and anxious for the last days of life under my parent’s roof. I was looking forward to prom and graduation and college and everything ahead.

In chapter 25, I was neck deep in a heartbreak that had a chokehold on me but I rented a room in New York City and threw myself a birthday party. Because yes.

In chapter 27, I met a guy. He worked in the same school as me. You know him as Husband.

At just the stroke of chapter 31, I found out I was pregnant.

In chapter 32, I had a strong baby girl and was expecting a baby boy.

In chapter33, the last of my grandparents passed away.

So here I am today, 36 chapters deep into my story with so much more left to write. In a Super Soul Session with Rob Bell he talks about a lady – fiery and edgy – that pulls up the seat beside him, looks him dead in the face – all close talker-like – and says, “Rob. My name is Mary and I’m 92 years old… and I’m just. getting. started.” Mary wasn’t embarrassed about 92, she was rocking it. At 92, she knew she had more life to live and more chapters to write. She was the star of her story and you… you are the star of yours.

So, today, I want to know… How many chapters deep are you? Don’t be shy.

In the words of fellow Cuban Pitbull:

Everybody goin’ through somethin’

So you might as well roll it up,
Pour it up, drink it up, throw it up tonight
… But everyday above ground is a great day, remember that.

P.S. a funny story on how my mommy insecurities melted away with a slightly uncomfortable, goofy dress kind of birthday