I was saying to Gal Smiley this week that I don’t feel as old as 54. I still feel relatively energetic and plenty enthusiastic. I have plans, big plans, so many places to go and projects to accomplish and closets to clean out.
54 is for grey-haired grandmothers (okay, I do have the hair on lock). It’s for people who tsk-tsk when song lyrics include the word fuck and people who spend too much time monitoring their neighbours’ comings and goings. It’s for people who are comfortable with the places they know and the viewpoints they already have, and aren’t looking to change the world-as-they-know-it.
That’s not me. Is it?
I’ve had a couple years of huge change. I’m still in the same house in the same town, but I’m flying solo, working a new job, adjusting to losses in my family, both by choice and not by choice. I’ve travelled to more places in the past two years than I have ever before in my life. I’m working hard to keep up with developments in the world of pronouns (a work in progress) and to learn to make TikToks. I wrote a book. I’ve tried therapy for the first time and I’m learning a lot about what makes me tick, embracing the parts I want to celebrate, letting go of the parts that have been holding me back.
I feel like I still have a lot to learn, and I think learning is what keeps us young (that and a good eye cream, feel free to drop me your recommendations). I still swear like a sailor and I still leave the house after 8 p.m. on occasion for karaoke (rare occasions, but still). I still have a 25 year mortgage and I still don’t understand how to report stocks on my taxes. And if I’m now struggling to read small print even with bifocals, and huffing and puffing a bit when I climb stairs, these seem like minor things.
I’m still young at heart, I guess is what I’m trying to say. It’s cliché but I guess clichés happen for a reason. I’m looking outward at the world in wonder still, and I hope you are too.
TurtleHead 
My beloved mamie died in December at 92. I went to visit her older sister a couple weeks ago… she’s 96 and living at home, doing well. My mum is 68 and still working. So I think we can safely say that today’s 50s is basically the 30s 🙂
Seriously, a few decades ago, 70 was seriously old, 50 was retired, and 40 was “kids are almost grown up”. I don’t know anyone who retired at 50 and my friends in their 40s are having babies!
I think this too but I was worried it was wishful thinking. Your mamie and her sister are queens and inspirations!
You’re definitely still spry, champ.
dying 🙂
I have no idea what this age (55 in my case) is “supposed” to feel like, because I’ve never been here before. There are days of feeling in my 70s and days of feeling in my 20s. So weird. Grey hair, yes, but way too young to be a grandmother (although several of my similarly-aged friends are). My grandparents were older so maybe that’s biasing me. In any case, here we are. Let’s embrace it and feel fortunate. Keep swearing, singing, writing, and being you at every age!
Therapy FTW. Learning what “makes you tick” can make such a huge difference. It’s so weird that we can get this far in life and still not really understand ourselves. How can we ever hope to understand someone else when we can’t figure “me” out. Stick with it!