Woke up feeling kind of hung over this morning, though I didn’t even enjoy any drinks last night. Along with this new, improved internal heating system and hair that magically streaks itself, that’s another new thing about 50 – drink free hangovers. Who’d have thought 50 came with so much new and free awesome-ness?
Years ago, my then 70-year-old mother in law enthusiastically told me, ‘my 30’s and 40’s, they were okay. but let me tell you, my 50’s, 60’s and 70’s – now that’s really living’. I looked at her greying hair and softening body from my 30 something perspective and was to be honest, a little grossed out and afraid. Those years came with visions of polyester leisure suits, support hose, musty perfume, and 50 shades of bitterness.
Aging isn’t something many of us accept easily. Entire industries are built on our inability to let go of the us we were at 20. And there are few examples of how to grow older well, and god…
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That is why I refuse to watch those shows, even Army Wives and Real Army Wives. I know it isn’t real despite what producers try to portray. I know my life and my body. Heck, even though this is my fifth pregnancy, I am coming to terms with my tiger stripes. Sure I could laser them away at some point, but I never will. They were earned. Every mark, sign of aging, etc, tells a story, a story about me. To try and hide it would be lying to myself and everyone else.