On celebrating her day, she posted,
I’m 32 years old today- yes- let me spell it out for you THIRTY TWO.
I’m not going to let anyone shame me into thinking I shouldn’t say this out loud, or believe that it’s a sign that I’m running out of time, for what I do not know.
Because for many instead of looking at age as a thing of pride we’ve shrouded it in negativity.
I lost a friend this morning to cancer and it just dawned on my that she didn’t get to have this opportunity.
So I’m going to scream my age out loud and wear it with a badge if I have to. Why?
Because 32 years how many mornings I’ve woken up and nights I’ve gone to bed.
32 is how many years I’ve inhaled and exhaled without skipping a beat, it’s the number years I’ve made it past Christmas,New Years and other holidays, and more than anything it’s the number of years I’ve been able to say I’m alive,when others couldn’t
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