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| What I think of motivational posters |
I don't feel almost forty, with the exception of the two-day hangovers that have surfaced in the past few years. I still feel like a kid much of the time, but my body and the mirror reflect a different reality. I'm getting older. Fuck.
I know I am supposed to embrace it. I have read plenty of articles written by savvy, sophisticated, successful women forty plus, declaring the positive sides of aging. Some claim to feel "sexier than ever before" or that they are "finally comfortable in their own skin." Yet these articles are in magazines crowded with models half my age.
Truth is I am afraid of aging. I'm afraid of my fading beauty and my weakening bones. I cringe as I hear my doctor utter words like "mammogram." When my nurse recommended a multi-vitamin for women ages forty and above I nearly fell over in my chair, but caught myself before I broke a damn hip.
I never used to take much notice of wrinkle creams and I never used to worry if my bra had enough lift, now... I am a captive audience. I scan People Magazine's annual "beautiful at any age" for women in their early forties, looking for proof that I can still be attractive and vibrant.
I have talked to other women my age and while some have a harder time than others the general consensus is that aging is fucking hard. It's sneaky and cunning and as hard as you try those laugh lines, sagging bits, are here to stay. There is no fighting the clock as it marches on.
As I'm sitting here typing these words I am wondering what the hell my point is. I have no neat conclusion and I don't intend to end with words of inspiration and wisdom which of course, is what every good blog author should do right?
Nah. If you are looking for inspiration go order some of those cheesy Successories. If you want a little bit of sass and honesty you can talk to me and I'm telling you turning forty blows.
What pisses me off is that I remember flipping out about forty and one of my coworkers said, "I wish I could go back to 40!" She was 43 or something. And, blink of eye, I swear, now I'm 54. Half the time younger women are looking at me in horror and the other half of the time 70 and 80 year olds are saying, "I wish I could go back to 54!" Time just keeps marching on.
ReplyDeleteThey say 40 is the new 30. Until your 50, then 50 is the new 30. I don't know, in my head I never seem to age, but the rest of me feels pain a lot longer, doesn't bounce back like before, and I can't pick up new physical skills as easily. I'm watching Skyler getting almost as good at me snowboarding when he's been doing it half the time, and attempting stuff I know I'd break in half if I tried.
ReplyDeleteYa, turning 40 sucks. But, by the time you turn 43, hopefully you'll realize you can't help it any more than you can help your eye color. At that point you'll just have to blow away those 20-somethings with your awesomeness. Make them wonder how you do and be who you are. Set goals and reach them like I know you can. Use your multitasking-mama skills combined with your college-smartie/fun-girl self and show them all that you aren't looking at those wrinkles. You are looking out through them.
ReplyDeleteI forgot to add ninja in there somewhere....
ReplyDelete:-)
DeleteThat was really good. And so true. I am in my 30s, but I have no idea where the past 10 years have gone, and the past 3 years with kids? Holy crap. I can't imagine how quickly time will fly by now. Ug. It does suck.
ReplyDeleteI am getting nervous too.... I am a couple years behind you, but after injuring my knee recently, I realize I am old. Things take longer to heal. All parts of me are sagging and I look like a melted candle. It's harder to keep the weight off. Poo.
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