Oh, Fabulous Fifty!

 

They say 50 is the new 40 and let me tell you something…they are lying. I know -I have been both, and I know the difference. Think about it, if that would be true would I have to wait to be 60 to be  finally 50? 

They say that we are “over the hill” when we hit 40,  and that too is a lie. I have no idea who writes these fairytales about different ages, but I assume it’s someone who hasn’t enjoyed any of them.

I am not over the hill; I am standing on top of it. I am standing there since a while, and I have no intention of going down (yet).

What is it then? Is age just a number? For some it might be; for me, it’s more of a statement.

“Don’t give me that crap,” would be my preferred phrase and I don’t mean it as rude as it sounds. By any means, I am not a rude person, but I just don’t have more time to waste on any kind of polite lies.

I have earned my right to roll my eyes, whenever I feel the need to do so. I have learned to show my disapproval, and I have perfected the raised-eyebrow-look.

I have also learned to show joy in any form and way I can think of. If I feel like jumping up and clapping my hands like a little toddler, then I will do so -even if the rest of the audience might still be sitting. I will ask for the chef in a restaurant, just to tell him how magnificent his dinner was.

There comes a new found freedom with 50 and it is fabulous. I love it. More than ever do I know what I want, and who I am.

I am not too old to get the purple and blue highlights that I want to try so badly. I can still run and play with the dogs, when I feel like it -even if I might regret it the next day. There is no age appropriate behavior –it’s all just an excuse to give up. Age is not holding us back; it’s our mindset –if we allow it to happen.

Yes, the 20-year-old jogger will pass me up, and that’s alright. I have been there myself; I know how it feels. I am still moving, and that’s all that matters. “A rolling stone gathers no moss,” and there won’t be any moss on this stone -as long as I can help it.

Most of us will get some health issues sooner or later and let’s be honest, of course, we do. We all are supposed to die one day, and we all just can’t die healthy, can we?

Being 50 is even fun in a relationship. We are growing old together and learned to laugh at each other in a very gentle and loving way. I pull the  white hair out of his eyebrows without any warning, just because I like the look on his face, and he screens my chin for the annoying black hair, that seems to live there now.

We share reading glasses in a restaurant, just because one of us always forgets to bring them. Age doesn’t change a relationship, just because some things might be changing. I feel as sexy as always -just not on a daily base- and I feel the same way about my husband.

Aging is not for sissies, but neither is being young.

 

Fifty

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