Who said “Life begins at 40?”
No really, who?
Because I have some serious questions for them. Clearly it was coined in an era where people had the chicks almost out of the nest and the ‘hard yards’ were nearly done. It’s just that it took me a little longer than the rest to find my love. We were having our babies at a time when loads of my friends were sending theirs off to school (and even high school).
Yes, I feel a lot more comfortable with who I am. I am proud of my achievements. I have purpose and direction. I love and I am loved in return. But though I know it is expected that I should say I don’t care what others think about me ‘now I’m in my 40’s”, well, that would be a lie. I do care. I do want people to like me. I do want to still be considered relevant and valued. Sure, the fear of my younger years about my ‘unknown future’ has lifted, and I am not as dependent on others to shape who I am, but I am not yet ready to become invisible. (See here how the 40’s have shaped me so far…)
Suffice to say, I do feel I am yet to hit my ‘fabulous’ stride.
Here is why.
1. I am still in a constant whirlwind of exhaustion. My brain is ready to burst with the lists I keep compiling, editing and then losing. I feel my limbs being tugged in different directions and I am the walking ‘juggler’ cliche’, desperately trying to keep all my balls in the air. And failing (but you should see how improved my game face is!)
2. Pimples. YEP! I thought I did my time. I thought this was reserved for the woes of the teenage years. But no; it seems once again I have lush folds of fertile skin, upon which Vesuvius regularly reappears. And they always strike right about when I have something special on that I would like to appear ‘nice’ for.
3. Physically, my body is not working like it used to. Ever tried doing cartwheels with your kids? Your brain knows exactly what you need to do, but your limbs have forgotten. My back ache has become the norm and I know I should pay more attention to the niggles and jolts, but I feel like this has become my new ‘normal’. I simply can’t be running off to the doctor for everything. Oh I know I should, and I will-I really will, but…
4. And on that note, when you do get sick and head to the docs, what do they tell you? Fluids and bed rest. ON WHAT PLANET?
5. It’s almost a time of life where I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place. Or, as my dad always put so eloquently, “mutton dressed as lamb.” I still see clothes and shoes and makeup that I think, “Noice…”, but then realise I simply cannot get away with that look anymore. It’s just that trying to appear/keep young, whilst ageing gracefully is really tough tough to blend. Why oh why did we choose baggy clothes and tracky dacks back in the era when I had 14 pieces of toast a day and it never stuck to my ribs!
6. Remember all those adds on the telly about that weird thing called ‘superannuation‘. Well, sh*te just keeps getting real. Now, it is not an “I am you, 20 years from now” joke, it is a legitimate dinner conversation.
7. Remember hitting the pubs/clubs with $20 for a night out? And staying out till the wee morning hours? Now, I can actually afford a moderate night out and seeing the sun rise with the beginning of a hangover is the absolute worst thing I can begin to imagine. Now, when I can be ar*ed going out, I do bloody wear that coat that Mum was always nagging me to wear when I was 18. “You eat you cheat” is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard and hell yes, I will see the dessert menu, thank you very much.
8. A night out with the girls is absolute gold. For a start, trying to get everyone together without commitments is near impossible. And of course, our conversation has shifted dramatically. Mind you, I do love seeing the latest pics of their kids and hearing what everyone has been cooking on a weeknight, but another change is slowly creeping in. Now, ‘perimenopause’ is the topic of conversation being peppered about with the pizza, and slowly we are beginning to compare scrawly notes on this lovely chapter.
9. I am a big sook. I cry at everything. I cry at the school assembly, I cry in Legomasters when something breaks at the last minute, and I tear up when I hear the rain and know there’s washing on the line. I see Biebs on the TV and want to bring him home for a big bowl of soup and a good night’s sleep with fresh PJ’s and clean sheets. I am a soft touch.
10. I cry harder because it feels like the grown up words like ‘cancer’ and ‘divorce’ (not to be remotely compared by the way), are creeping into my world so much more now.
And of course, that #10 has rightfully SNAPPED me out of my sooks.
As I look over at my fridge and see the photos of friends and family stuck haphazardly all over it, the curious, abstract school artwork and the party invitations for my happy and healthy kids, I catch sight of the photo of my beautiful friend taken from our lives way too soon.
Hit me with it, (mid) 40’s.
I AM FABULOUS!
It is a privilege to be here.
