The other day I was asked how old I was. I paused and then laughed saying that I couldn’t remember before finally stumbling at saying I was 42. I paused because I didn’t want to say. I paused because I feel like I can’t be 42 when I still feel like I’m not even 30!
Years ago I remember sitting at a bar talking to a friend and the conversation went something like life is over at 21- mean what are the age milestone after that? Retirement? I have vivid memories of things I couldn’t do because I wasn’t old enough- rides at fair grounds, entering my mom’s factory- no one under 12, driving at 16, voting at 18 and legal drinking at 21 and then? I remember my late teens to mid 20’s mainly consisiting of me working my way through college/university. My early 30’s was me ending a marriage and going out on my own and eventually landing here in the UK. My mid 30’s was the great unknown and unexpected world of motherhood and starting a new life in a foreign country. So I can look back and see all the experiences that have led me here and yet… yet 42! Well by now I’m 43 as I celebrated my birthday a couple of days after that conversation.
I suppose it’s time I accept my age- 40 is the new 30 isn’t it? But still, I see my skin changing, I have few grey hairs and each year I grow older. I don’t really like that bit of it. I want to be happy in my skin. I want to get to the point where I’m not a mass of insecurities. Tell me when does that happen? When do you stop feeling like the 16 yr old self filled with self doubt?
As you can tell I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I have decided this will be the year I embrace this new chapter in my life- middle age. I’m going to embrace it and excite in it and push myself to try things I’m been too afraid to do. After all time isn’t on my side- I’ve probably already lived half my life.
So tell me am I the only one
Besides I don’t look to shabby for an old
bird eer bunny..