1. I am older than I was yesterday
Not to state the obvious but now that I’m *cough* FIFTY I’m like a sponge wanting to learn more and at the same time shrug off the so-called worries and anxieties that took up an unwelcome chunk of my life.
The fact that I’ll be SIXTY (sorry, I’m totally incapable of not getting shouty about these numbers) in a decade blows my forking mind.
The fact that each day brings me closer to that and, let’s not beat around the bush, actual factual death is quite something to get your head around.
Please know I’m not wafting around wringing my hands at my impending doom although the inevitable sagginess happening right now is getting right on my tits.
(Such a lot of sag, people, such a lot of sad sagging. Sigh.)
But I am of the mind that there’s no more time to waste. Things to do! People to see! And I don’t want to be invisible. I’m not taking it for a given that because I’m an older woman I have nothing to offer anymore, that I can’t be attractive or dance on tables or completely about-turn in a different life direction. I’m up for all of it.
Might be a change up of products, might be a little dibble dabble of looking into something else and I might not wear shorts up my bum but know this. If I want to, I damn well will!
Love, Feisty of 1967
2. There are some things I hold a strong opinion on
Contoured faces, blocked out eyebrows, false eyelashes and so much tan are all things I’m happy to amuse myself with by watching from afar.
I’m going out on a limb here to say I see real beauty in the gorgeous yogis who leave their skin to breath, whose glow comes from stretching out their limbs in every direction and not from layering on highlight after highlight. Only what I think, of course, and I do appreciate the artistry and fun involved in make up. I just adore the organic, naturalness of freckles and crooked smiles and mussed up hair.
I’ve been there before when a very strong look was in evidence and almost succumbed to pencil thin eyebrows during the early ’90’s… Thankfully I played it safe and obsessed over Levi 501’s instead. Safer if somewhat uniform as the entire workforce under twenty-five wore them belted in with a white shirt or white tee topped off with sockless Doc Martin shoes. And then we took our internal angst to a Morrissey concert.
I also know that life is way too short to turn down a slice of birthday cake and everybody deserves a friend and a good book.
3. This peri-menopause stage is SO MUCH FUN
No. It’s not.
But where is the info?
Why am I not offered any hormonal tests or blood tests or conversation around it?
Who is talking about it? I mean, I had no idea it can go on for years before menopause hits.
And does this mean I’ll be a dried up old, non-sexual husk of being? Because that’s appealing.
Right now there’s hormones and non-sleeping and the skin of an adolescent that could do with a good dose of Botox and whatever else is on offer and the possibility that one day soon I’m going to wake up 20 kilos heavier JUST LIKE THAT.
Ahem, anyhoo, just wondering. Because at 18412 days old I really know nothing.
Tell me what you know… Or what you want to know. Or what YOU hold a strong opinion on!
Photo by Alia Wilhelm
© The Yoga Connection 2018