Why do we start to hate our birthdays in our late 20s? The answer might seem obvious. We're not satisfied with we're careers, we still haven't found the love of our life, we haven't lost those few extra pounds we swore would be gone by now... But has it always been that way? Did our parents feel an impending sense of doom come their 27th birthday?
I've had many interesting conversations lately with midlife women about claiming OUR space between attractiveness and authenticity as we age. Intellectually, I understand the paradox of beauty and aging because I was introduced to the beautifying of women at a very young age. I grew up surrounded by QUEENS-beautiful strong women. I mean visibly stunning and smart women.