Yesterday morning I came face to face with a 64 year old woman. I walked into our bathroom, looked in the mirror, and there she was, looking right back at me. Wow, where did she come from?
Where did the fresh-faced 20 year old girl with the velvet hot pants, short skirts and over-the-knee boots go? Fashion wise, she would be right at home in today’s world.
Or, where is the busy 30 year old, trying to juggle being a mum to two young step children (talk about steep learning curve!) while building a business together with her new husband?
Where did the 40 year old disappear to? She was just getting used to living in a new place again and making lots of new friends. Starting all over had never been so much fun.
And for that matter, what happened to the 50 year old? It really wasn’t that long ago since she was here. A few wrinkles and grey strands of hair had started to make themselves known, but that wasn’t a worry. Life was good!
The woman staring back at me in the mirror didn’t look too bad for her age really, a few wrinkles here and there, thick hair that now needs a bit of colouring to hide the grey and a waist that seemed to have spread a bit (OK, quite a bit). Not to mention the effects of gravity. Gravity wants to take over and it’s a battle to get things to stay where they are supposed to be! All in all though, not too bad.
But exactly where did those previous versions of me disappear to? My husband’s comment to this was “Send out a search party!”
Yesterday was my birthday, and as you’ve probably guessed, I turned 64. That used to be thought of as old and in fairness, to a 10 year old, I’m probably ancient and ready for mummyfication. But I certainly don’t feel old.
Someone once asked “If you didn’t know how old you are, what’s your age?” That’s such a good question! I really had to think about this. How old do I really feel?
Do I feel 20? Definitely not. Though I wouldn’t mind getting that 20 year old body back!
30? No, not really. But I still get the same buzz from new business ventures and trying new things.
40? No. However, the love for new places and making new friends still remains. And adventures are still high on the list.
Maybe I feel 50? No, not even 50.
The woman I met in the mirror yesterday looks a little bit different than the younger versions I remember from decades earlier, but the 20 year old is still there. As are all the other versions of me.
So how old do I feel? The simple answer – all of the above, all rolled into one. I feel like I’m 64 years old (or should that be 64 years young?). Who actually dictates how a 64 year old is supposed to feel? Is there a golden rule? And why are we so scared to admit how old we are.
Age is just a number and as the saying goes “You are only as old as you feel”. Well, I feel 64, and in answer to that famous Beatles song of so long ago – my husband still loves me (still needs me, still feeds me and always sends me birthday cards) and, as that other song goes … I’m feeling good!
Here’s a snippet of the song When I’m 64 (just in case you have no idea what I’m talking about) PaulMcCartney – When I’m sixty-four