I’m turning 50 in a few weeks. Universally, the comments I’ve had the most this past year are either, ‘Oh my God, you look so good for nearly 50!’- or, ‘Wow, I would have thought you were so much younger!’ Understanding that these are meant to be compliments, I take them well and smile back. But it really has got me thinking.
Would I enjoy a little nip/tuck in a few areas to preserver my outer youth? My bags, belly and back fat would scream yes, please. But the truth is my bags come from longer nights with usually a good cause; my belly housed four strapping boys and those tummy muscles never stood a chance of reuniting again; and my back fat is nature’s way of storing fat – literally something we humans are meant to do for survival. The lines on my face represent years of laughing and crying, stress and awareness, loving and thinking. With age comes wisdom, they say, and looking back a few generations in our past, I’d be considered an elder. The wisdom literally comes from those years of one’s own experiences – trials – triumphs and like it or not, that wisdom is seen on your face.
My husband and I recently returned from a bucket list trip. We were together by ourselves for nine days. By day three he joked that it would be great timing for one of my best friends to be teleported in just to talk for an hour so I could ‘get out all the girl chat’. He’s right – I would have loved to have talked endlessly that day about all that was in my mind and he did so well listening as long as he could! But talking ‘so much’ (not ‘too’ much he was careful not to say) has also been the basis for my wisdom. For me, when I talk I also listen and observe. Sharing stories with the people in my life provided a classroom of consciousness and understanding of how the world works. From motherhood to Hollywood, politics to professions, all these years behind me has provided a breadth of information for my own growth and perspective. The net I cast out has brought in all sorts of different ways of looking at the world and I am grateful to be able to see that now.
So yes, gravity is playing an evil trick on my body and my inner youth doesn’t always match my outer face, but I wouldn’t trade the freedom I’m beginning to feel in owning this new decade. Owning my years. Wisdom shared or stored, it’s empowering knowing oneself and what one needs to be happy. It’s time to be proud of 50 rather than afraid of it. Be accepting with the ageing process and finding my smile back in the mirror. Be 50. After all, 50 is the new…50.