I’ve been thinking a lot lately about getting older. And by “lately” I mean the past five years.
I’ll be 40 next year. And in a way, it’s like turning 30 all over again. No real concern for the number, just a little anxious anticipation about this new context. To no longer be a thirtysomething parent, a thirtysomething woman.
I’ll be 40. “In my forties.”
Some of my contemporaries will be young grandmothers. They’ll talk more about peri-menopause than unplanned pregnancies. They’ll start embracing their laugh lines and stop coloring their hair. They’ll actually feel like a “ma’am.”
It’s a big change when you take a long-term view.
I’ve been talking about eye cream for several years now, and jokes about crow’s feet and varicose veins are old hat. But the changes taking place in my appearance seem to carry more weight when paired with the-big-four-oh.
And let’s not even talk about weight. Oh, for the days when a four-mile run allowed me to eat all the carbs I wanted….
Don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining about my appearance or my age. But their combined forces are doing a number on my self-perception. Any lingering vestiges of the illusion that I’m still a “girl” have been CRUSHED by this dynamic duo.
I don’t know about other women my age, but I still feel like the girl I was in my twenties. A smarter version, with much better priorities (sensory motor therapy for Oliver or a new handbag for me…what should I choose…what should I choose…)—but still a “girl.”
I’m only just starting to feel like a real grownup. So I’m a little intimidated by the idea that I am now fully vested and forced to cash in on real responsibilities, health concerns, and age-defying neck cream.
It’s a lot to take in.
So I have to approach it like everything else that makes me feel uncomfortable. First, I avoid thinking about it. Then, I start asking around to see if I’m the only one…. And finally, I look for the silver lining.
The silver fox lining, if you will. Because there is power in age.
As young as I may feel at heart, I now have years of real life experience. I make better decisions. And when I do make mistakes, I recognize the value in a learning experience. I’m kinder, less judgmental, and far more open to new ideas.
I don’t waste time trying to be perfect. And I make peace with the fact that I never was and never will be.
And that’s okay, because there is nothing more boring than someone who is “perfect.” So I try to appreciate my rough edges and quirks—as well as those in others.
But I’m not going to lie. While growing older can be a really wonderful thing, looking older isn’t my favorite.
I know that I’m supposed to be comfortable in my own skin and age gracefully and all that—and I’m really trying!—but it’s hard. The girl still floating around in my aging brain is having none of it. When I look in the mirror, she sighs in exasperation. She applies foundation to the dark circles under her eyes and reaches for the hair drier. She wishes I would put in a little more effort.
So there is a compromise to be made there. I will appreciate my age and all of the wisdom I acquire each year, but I’ll do it in flattering jeans and a cute top from Anthropologie. I’ll pluck my eyebrows and put a little more effort in. The girl in me deserves to feel pretty.
The “ma’am” in me deserves to be appreciated too though. She’s pretty cool. And she knows how to work the system. While the girls are self-consciously looking around hoping to be noticed and appreciated, the ma’ams are flying under the radar—getting things done and making things happen.
I used to take a long time to get ready. I was so aware of what people saw when they looked at me, that I missed out on a lot of the world around me. And while I do still try to look at least NOT messy when I leave the house, I’m a bit more interested in doing the looking.
I have to thank my children and the impossibly short daylight hours for this. When you feel like you have to accomplish twenty hours of stuff in six—you tend to become rather practical. Bad hair day? Oh well, who’s looking anyway? Feeling fat? Who isn’t? Now where did I put that grocery list….
I get a lot done now. Simply because I have more to do.
So are those the fabulous prizes I’m bringing home from the Wheel of Fortune spin that life offers us? Cumulative wisdom and a long to-do list?
The girl inside me is unimpressed. And she really needs a pedicure.
But of course there are more perks to not being young and perky. I find new ones every day. And they almost always come back to making me laugh. I am developing one hell of a sense of humor. About my life, myself, and the gerbil wheel that we usually refer to as “today.”
I’m taking this aging thing one day at a time. It’s not always my favorite, but I try to look for the positives. I appreciate my new perspective and capitalize on the anonymity I can assume as I race through my day of doing whatever it is I do. I splash on a little makeup and feel pretty when I feel like it, then I use my wrinkles to intimidate young clerks into taking me seriously at the customer service desk.
And I laugh about all of it. A lot. Because what could be funnier than realizing that the two other people in your family who have also had hernia repair surgeries are both 60-year-old men?
Silver linings, I tell ya’…it’s all about the silver linings…
Originally posted on Health News, HERE.
Personally I'm loving my forties. I'm a lot more comfortable in my (albeit slightly older looking and more wrinkly) skin and have genuinely accepted that I'm simply never going to look 25, or even 35, again. I do dye my hair but so does every woman here over the age of about 30, it's more a fashion thing. No one chooses to just go gray. As for the rest of it though, I figured I've earned every laugh line or crow's foot I've got, fair and square.
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I'm in total denial – I don't examine my face or neck in my mirror at all, ever. I put on face cream only occasionally, and I can't remember the last time I plucked my eyebrows or blew my hair dry. OMG I am acting like a teenager! And I'm close to 40 too. I guess I need to get my act together!
But, like you, I FEEL the same as I did when I was younger. I guess that's why we're so rad!
I have been 40 for nearly a year now….and I still don't feel my age.
I feel like a fraud and everyone is going to discover that I'm not grown up.
I'm with you. This past year it's become obvious I'm 'aging'. And it is so, so weird. Because, like you, I feel like I'm still in my twenties…okay, late twenties. But young enough that I can't quite believe I have gray hair that I'm getting colored more often than usual. Huge, huge sigh.
You're great. You know that, right?
Kate,
My mileage just flipped to the big 4-0 on the 23rd of August. And how is it? Well, I can tell you that the lead up was far worse than the reality. I felt the same as you and had quite a difficult time waiting for it to happen. But now…what are ya going to do? I've embraced this decade and plan on making it my 'professional & successful' decade. (And it didn't hurt my aged ego that while at the beach on the big day a rather youthful 18 something was checking me out…my three kids and husband were splashing in the sea.) At least I think he was….that's what I'm telling myself anyway.
Great post.
Aidan
Here at 37 I'm noticing that metabolism slowdown. I'm feeling mortality shadow around me. But the upside is so huge–I do feel that power that comes with age and finding out who you really are and what you really want.
xo