Girl School for Grownups

Like having a big sister, but better because I can't boss you around!

“What’s my age again?” Blink 182

on March 14, 2015

It’s interesting growing older in a culture that hates old. On my next birthday I will be 55, and this astonishes me, saddens me, and when my head is screwed on straight, delights me all at the same time.

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When I was 14 or so, I bought an issue of Cosmopolitan magazine, because of course I needed to know how to tantalize him in bed, and what my orgasm style was. 🙂 This issue was the coveted January issue that came with a little booklet titled “The Cosmo Bedside Astrologer.” The only thing I remember from that oh-so-important booklet is this: Capricorns get better with age. I’ve taken that to heart, and considered myself a late-bloomer in almost every arena of life.

So back to aging. I’m at a time when I about break my neck to examine signs that promise “tighening, firming, lifting” on products in the beauty aisle. And I think “gravity sucks, literally” as I see the skin on my body not hanging on as tightly as it once did. (In my dreams, everyone gets all brand new skin every 30 years. So how your skin looks at 30 is as bad as it gets. I also am working on an invention where you can have sporty boobs or party boobs with the flick of a switch. But I digress.)

What’s interesting is that every age I’ve been still lives inside of me. So in a single afternoon I can have the confidence and the “I am what I am” acceptance of my actual age, the insecurities of my 13-year-old self, and the playfulness of my inner three year old. One thing I’m adamant about is not using my age as an excuse, which is part of why yoga teacher training feels so empowering. I *am* the oldest one in the class (I checked). We did an exercise last weekend that involved holding painful poses for long periods of time, and my mind went to “This probably hurts me more than it hurts everyone else, because I’m the oldest.” In yoga teacher training lingo, this is called a story. I challenged the story with this thought: what if I’m the most capable of staying in this pose, since I’ve had more life experience and developed more tenacity than anyone else in the room?

I love seeing my mother as she takes up new hobbies. She started ballroom dancing in her 60s and has won awards for her dancing. She also started Toastmasters because she wanted to have a place to wear her gorgeous shoes. (She owns numerous pairs of Manolos and what I wouldn’t give for my size 8 feet to fit into her size 6-1/2 shoes!) This attitude gives me hope.

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When I was 40 I got a belly button piercing. My friend Tanya and I went to the head shop with me behind the wheel of my giant mom SUV. I saw no need then to equate my age with what I was doing, but I think it scared some of the neighborhood children that summer when I brazenly showed my body jewelry as I enjoyed our swimming pool. I took it out a few years later because I was done with it.

I think the main thing in staying youthful (besides great sunscreen and laser facials every once in a while) is not getting stuck in a mindset that says, “Well, now that I’m (insert current age here) I can’t…” It takes vigilance. But that vigilance is rewarded when I feel a childlike excitement about what I can learn and do and become. And age means nothing when it comes to stuff like that, right?

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One response to ““What’s my age again?” Blink 182

  1. Pam says:

    I haven’t posted any comments and can’t promise I will from here on out (hahahaha) but wanted you to know how much I enjoy your posts. I can always relate to something you’ve talked about. Sometimes it makes me laugh and other times reflective. Regardless, I always learn something that can better my life. I thank you for that. Keep up the good work. You inspire me.

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