I now find myself turning the age that is supposed to be "the new 30," but that feels like a mathematical impossibility. I've realized that it's not the aging process itself that I fear. I do my best to fear only things I have some control over, like icky spiders and abdominal fat. It is the stigma of age that I fear most.
I live in a world of Schadenfreud, New York City, where a woman over 40 is often single and childless, as well as powerful, beautiful, and fit -- and where she is picked on by the newspaper she wakes up to every morning.