I recently turned 45. Maybe it was the high altitude and thin mountain air that caused me to celebrate that milestone with euphoric bliss. Surrounded by family and by the Three Sisters Peaks, I blew out my candles and graciously embraced "middle age"...Actually, it may even be pushing the envelope to assume that 45 is the half way point, but I'm an optimist by nature.
Soon after my Banff Birthday, I came home and fell back into the daily routine of work, school and sundry "stuff" - HOLY CRAP - I'M 45! This is no longer as quaint and charming as it was in my Rocky Mountain zen-like state. Someone or something made off with a whole decade - I swear I was just 29! After all, 45 is the age where "hot" isn't used in reference to me, but instead - what happens to me as I spontaneously break out in an uncontrollable sweat. 45 is when the "mid-life crisis" translates into a hot little sports car - and that's not the only thing that goes from 0 to 150 in seconds - try the bathroom scale! 45 is when you can legitimately say to your kids "I have socks older than you." 45 is when you have to stop referring to the extra 25 and a half pounds as "baby baggage" - my baby is 13 today - it's lack -of-gym-itis!!!
The other day at work someone even referred to the "R" word - that NEVER happens! I was asked how long until I retire - COME ON NOW!!! 45 is a pivotal age. Sandwiched between growing yet needy teens and aging, yet highly independent and healthy parents. Managing a mind that says "yes you can", and a body that says "don't you DARE". Thinking you're way too young for some stuff - like, let's say a vacation in St. Pete's...but way too old for other stuff - like skinny jeans, bikinis, backpacking through Europe, and a few downtown clubs where everyone looks like they're out way past curfew. It's an age of discovery but with fewer joyful discoveries..."I can't stay up that late and function the next morning" is one example.
Recently, I've been making a few discoveries and decisions that are definitely age related...things that never would have occurred to me a few years ago...or even a few short months ago! I'm holding things at arm's length to read them, and increasing the font on my computer...I even use that magnifying thingy at the pharmacy to read the labels! I've started spending a dollar for every year of my life on a jar of moisturizer - Noxema doesn't cut it anymore...I've found creative ways to craft a scarf around my neck when the wrinkles seem noticeable, and I pick up a box of haircolour at each drugstore visit (just in case the pesky roots grow out ahead of schedule).
Then there's the cool stuff that comes with being "middle aged"...All of those successful "suits" that used to intimidate the hell out of you 15 years ago are retired and replaced by young, hip, creative geniuses who report to you - and make you feel kind of young, hip and creative - or at least refreshed by their enthusiasm and boundless energy. You can speak from the heart - and genuinely express your opinion without reservation...because your opinion carries with it a little bit of experience! At 45, I can take a road trip without toting diaper bags, bottles, car seat, high chair, pack and play, and 20 changes of clothes "in case"...I can plan a spontaneous "date" for two without a week's worth of orchestration.
As a woman of 45, living in these post-feminist times, I suppose acceptance rather than shock, followed by terror - would be the "mature woman" approach to aging gracefully. Women today have a much longer life expectancy and are much more vital in their twilight years. 45 is the new 35! Aging graciously has never been a desire of mine, but these "times" embrace and revere the mature women, so why not jump on the bandwagon and grab some R-E-S-P-E-C-T ( I'm defining "mature" loosely as those of us who buy the "mature woman" vitamins and skin cream).
These "times" are flexible, lenient and forgiving (like my new jeans)- Today, society embraces the single mom, the professional career woman, the cougar, the blended family and every configuration of parental units imaginable. The traditional pressures of being married by a certain age, starting a family, yada, yada...have dissolved into the pages of history - only to be revived by the "feministas" (feminist Divas) who have a bone to pick with any institution that supports traditional roles. I went through a touch of feminism fever - it passed like a bad flu bug, out of my system in plenty of time to be a stay at home mom for several years, raise some cool kids, grow a career and a strong marriage.
Maybe being 45 isn't as traumatic as all that! Maybe I should re-evaluate, and be grateful for all of the blessings and insights these 45 years have delivered. Maybe, I should focus on how old I feel rather than how many calendar years have passed! Some days - that would mean 107, but on others, in fact the majority of them, I feel at least 10 years younger on the inside...and as I ramp up the walking, get to the gym and keep on with the expensive "mature skin" face cream, there's just no telling what the future will hold.
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