No one prepares you for aging, you just get subtle signs. Clothes get tighter, skin gets looser, time ticks faster, metabolism gets slower and you're on the slow road to OLD. I will not use that word when I'm referring to myself. Old feels like a curse. Old implies you're no longer useful. I hate that thinking, so I'm not thinking it.

Thank God I'm aging. I want to age because I want to enjoy my unconditionally loyal body. I intend to celebrate it as long as I'm given the time to do so. The abuse I've subjected my body to is embarrassing. Self-inflicted abuse from my thoughts, environment and actions. I did a little throwback thinking to remember and gasped at all the hell I've done to my body.

It all started around 15. Typical puberty hell: Where are my tits? Carpenter's dream, flat as a board. I also specifically remember when a family member (names will not be revealed) called me "thunder thighs". Just to put it in context, I was a high school soccer player and yes, had strong feet and legs because I had been dancing since three and a half. My "thunder thighs" and flatness carried me to my professional stage career but those comments and expectations as a performer shaped the way I treated my body.

In my 20's I used to wear plastic pants when I was working out. I would sweat off that "thunder". Ex-lax, diuretics and the sauna were old friends during college in order to make weight for ballet class. I typically had no energy after that, but taking class was more important than anything. So, lessen the thighs and increase the bust line by stuffing; you know, the bigger the better!

Drugs and alcohol had several appearances in every decade: My Mom's death, my divorce, an injury, disappointments, a pandemic and sometimes simply for no reason but to party. Still, my amazing body kept bouncing back. Now, it's more like a slow rolling back, there's less bounce, more jiggle. Our bodies want to be healthy. They're designed to move us through decades of life. They are our greatest teachers, if we're listening.

I'm in my 60's now and I'm finally listening. It tells me to hold it with respect and love it like I can't live without it....because I can't! Yes, I still overindulge in cheese and wine sometimes but my true indulgence is on my yoga mat. My practice is my apology.

My body never asked for anything except movement and love. Thank you, oh sweet body of mine. Today, I love the feel of sweat-wicking yoga pants around my thighs as I feel my thunderous strength in Utkatasana (chair pose). My mind chuckles at the old thought that my body was less than because I never moved out of a b-cup. My breath is full, slow and steady. I'm prepared for aging and its slow roll out. The slower the better.