Bi Shumin said: We will all age, why should we cover up this reality? Covering up is not only futile, it is first of all a kind of weakness. Self-confidence is not inversely proportional to age, just like self-confidence is not inversely proportional to beauty. Proportional. Courage is not stored in your face, but in your own hands.

Yes, why hide it? Those born in the 1970s will reach their fifth decade in a few years, do you believe it? I don’t believe it anyway. But many times when people ask about my age, I never shy away and tell the truth. People said you looked so young, but I just laughed and said nothing.

Maybe I am also subconsciously hiding something, such as gray hair. It’s a long story. The history of my gray hair can be traced back to my junior high school days. From the occasional few strands at the beginning to now in my forties, I'm almost turning gray in my years. Isn't it sad? If you let it spread like crazy in your head, the human heart will be unbearable, so it is necessary to cover up.

Except for going to the barber shop once during the Chinese New Year, I spend the rest of the time doing my hair at home. Replenish the roots once a month, and only the top of the head that you can see. A barber once teased me, "If you can't see it, don't care." Yes, isn’t it a bit deceptive?

For example, I am not very particular about dressing up. As long as I am generous and self-aware of my beauty, I hope I can have a certain temperament, so I pay more attention to the inside. I remember Meng Fei's humorous interpretation of female temperament to foreign male guests in "If You Are the One". Meng Fei said: In the eyes of Chinese people, praising a woman for her temperament is actually a subtle way of saying that she is not beautiful. Although it is ridiculing, it is also implicit.

But I think there are many beautiful women but not many elegant women.

At least at this young age, my philosophy is that I will never allow myself to dress up like what others think of an aunt. At least she must be graceful and charming, I guess. (Smirking party)

Once I went to the movies with a girl. There was a father and son sitting next to me, a young man in his thirties, with a little boy, who kept chatting with me and asking questions. Me: "How old is your girl? She should be the eldest!" I said: "No." I don't want to say anything more, because I feel that we are not the same age. In this dimly lit place, maybe they treat me as a young person. Oh, am I hiding something again?

Then again, although I am not confused about my age, my mental age is still really young. To be precise, I don’t know at which stage I will stay. My husband often teases me: "I am angry with a child day by day, and I am as knowledgeable as a child." This is to teach me that I am not letting my daughter go.

I don’t feel old anyway, so why not go to the fifth grade? I am still me, alive and kicking, my body is great and I eat well. The only change is that the child has grown older and is taller than me, but at this age, I still feel guilty. But it doesn’t matter, no matter how the years torture me, I am content with myself.

Isn’t life just like this? It seems that the days ahead are long and the road is long and long. Before I can recover, I feel that time has suddenly reached my forties, like a time-travel drama. Looking forward, the future seems still long. There are too many dreams still being dreamed, too many things unfinished, and too many longings still being painted. Shake your mind and remind yourself, who said I am old? Just grow up.

Looking back, there are too many looking back, too much reluctance, time flies by like a fleeting moment, life is like a dream, everything has changed.