In a week, I turn 30. I'm very much looking forward to it, but a small part of me is dreading it. Society deems women of a certain age unworthy of... everything, and I am now about to be a woman of a certain age. There are so many exciting things about aging, but my existence has always and almost solely been validated for the way I look. Who I am is just a bonus to the way I look for the man I'll one day trap/catch. The world has told me so many things about aging and my existence in the world. I would be lying if I said I hadn't ended up on the kitchen floor in a full on panic attack about aging in society. Â
