Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. ~Mark Twain
I am 42 and 3/4. No shame in admitting it. I don't try to pass myself off as 39. I haven't been carded in a very, very, very long time. And my bikini body is better suited to a one piece the last couple of years. What do you do, right? You can't stop the hands of time.
Does this mean I don't care what I look like? Hell, no. I totally care. I try to work out. I decline potato chips now way more than I did when I was 25. I find the wrinkles daily in the mirror. I hate the reflection my car window gives back and I'm convinced florescent lighting is the devils work. I use potions and lotions to stay "young looking." I struggle, more and more frequently, with age-appropriate wardrobe choices and I'm a little sad to let certain things go.
When it comes to aging though, I'm fighting a losing battle and I've come to grips with it.
Aging is a funny thing. Like slap your knee, ha ha kind of funny. Because if you don't find it funny, it can be downright depressing. Like right now for example, I could be all sad and glum that gravity is pushing my breasts down to my waist or I could be happy that the desk serves as a wonderful support platform. Perspective.
There is no doubt that there are things about aging that scare the hell out of me. Those are the things I like to keep pushed down in the dark corners of my brain. I don't relish the thought of disease or being a burden or losing those I love, or leaving those I love behind. Nothing funny about those things.
Everything else is fair game though, because not to be cliche, but as long as I have my health, I have everything. Wrinkles be damned. I used to know a guy, and everyday I'd ask him how he was and he'd say "I'm on the right side of the sod, so it's a good day." That's the attitude I want to carry with me as long as I can.
How are you with aging? Do you admit your age? What scares you the most? What makes you laugh?
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