#Realissues: Dirty 30 edition

As outlined in my “Dear Summer” post, I've kicked it all year for other people's 30th birthday.  At this point, I’m just cruising until my 30th, which is 23 days away.  I’m pretty chill about it now, but there is one thing I’m nervous about.  I brought this topic up a couple of years ago on Twitter, but now that 30 is approaching, I have to ask:

When I turn 30, do I have to stop shopping in the Juniors section for my jeans?

This is a #realissue, people.  I mean…the name of the section is “Juniors.”  I’m not even considered a young adult anymore…unless I’m trying to join someone’s Youth & Young Adult Choir.

I’ve accepted these random moles that are popping up all over my body.  I’ve grown to love the moles on my right cheek that I affectionately call “The Big Dipper” because of how they’re positioned.

I’ve accepted the fact that, though yoga is doing wonders for my body, I can’t be outcheah reckless.  This includes stretching before hooping and wearing an ankle brace when my ankle feels just fine.  If I want to wear heels when I turn 75, like my grandmother, I have to keep it all together.

Basically, I’ve accepted that I’m getting older.

But, dag nabbit, one thing I can’t accept are jeans that cover my belly button.  NO!  I refuse to head to the women’s’ section of a Macy's or Carson's for some Levi’s.  Mom Jeans on this body?  Pssshhh!  That is a life that I refuse to be about.

So yeah, I’ll continue to head to the Juniors section for my jeans.

For now.

K to the…

30 for the Dirty 30!

Dear Summer: I know you gon' miss me.