As I navigated through obligatory HR training at work recently, I encountered a section on age discrimination: the Age Discrimination in Employment Act (ADEA) protects those aged 40 and above from unfair treatment in the workplace. Wait, what? Now that I’ve crossed the 40-year threshold, there’s a law safeguarding me from age discrimination? I still chuckle at silly jokes; how can I possibly be considered “old”? It seems I’ve been catapulted into “middle age” without a moment’s notice.
Physical transformations are certainly on the horizon, a fact that rationally I understand. However, some changes have occurred at a speed that could rival an Olympic sprinter. It all began with chin hair. One morning, I awoke to find that the single charming chin hair I’ve had since my college days had multiplied exponentially. I felt like a goat! You wouldn’t believe the amount of time I now spend weekly on chin hair upkeep. Every time my partner walks into the bathroom, he finds me perched on the counter, magnifying mirror in one hand and tweezers in the other. We like to refer to it as “foreplay.”
Additionally, I’ve become increasingly aware of the neck wrinkles that have begun to appear. How does this happen? Is gravity literally trying to choke me? Did my head suddenly gain weight, putting undue stress on my neck? Are women destined to age like trees, accumulating rings around their necks?
It seems my hair has decided to join the exodus as well. Once I had long, thick, beautiful hair, but now it appears to be the only part of me that is thinning. I’ve even started taking prenatal vitamins in hopes of reversing the damage, which is delightful if you enjoy being perpetually constipated. Perhaps my hair has chosen to migrate South for the winter—specifically, to my chin!
In the past, I would feel insulted when someone said, “You look so good for having three kids; you must exercise.” This is what I call a compliment sandwich—an insult disguised with compliments that leaves me unsure whether to be flattered or offended. How about just acknowledging that I “look good” without any qualifiers? The same applies to age. Please refrain from saying, “You look great for 41,” unless you want to face my wrath.
Despite these physical changes, I find that the positives of aging far outweigh the negatives. In my youth, I was overly concerned about others’ opinions, fretting over unreturned calls or perceived slights. Now, I feel liberated. I embrace my idiosyncrasies: being an open book, honest, and an oversharer. This candor draws my friends to me for advice, and there’s never any judgment. Every awkward Tinder exchange or embarrassing story is shared with laughter and a good glass of wine.
In my younger years, I would apologize for everything. Now, I only apologize when I’m truly in the wrong. I won’t apologize for my enthusiasm for Nicolas Cage or for reading just the left page of a book to my toddler so that bedtime comes faster. Nor will I apologize for prioritizing annual girls’ trips with my best friends—until we’re old enough to live together like the Golden Girls. I will gladly take on the role of Blanche and won’t apologize for enjoying life at nursing homes, either.
I’m more inclined to take risks now. Safety no longer appeals to me. I’ve started writing and even signed up for my first marathon. Even when a man in his 60s passed me while wearing an “Ask Me About Race Walking” shirt during a race, I remained undeterred. I walk around in the nude in front of my husband, something I rarely did in my youth, worrying about how I looked. Now, he’s just excited to see a naked woman in the room!
Moreover, I’ve become more protective of my time. I understand its value. An exchange with my 11-year-old daughter recently highlighted this:
Her: “Mommy, I need you to make a dessert for my class party.”
Me: “I’ll happily grab something from Target in the morning.”
Her: “But all the other moms are making desserts!”
Me: “That’s wonderful. I work full-time and have three kids. I don’t have time for that right now.”
Her: “REALLY, MOM, you’re just watching TV.”
Me: “Nice observation! My hope for you is that one day you’ll see what really matters in life. For me, right now, it’s The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Also, could you grab me a glass of wine?”
Lastly, I take life less seriously. I’ve witnessed enough tragedies to understand what’s truly important. Just last week, my 9-year-old son yelled, “Mooom, Gavin pooped on the kitchen floor!” At first, I sighed, but then he added, “Never mind, the dog just ate it.” Crisis averted, all while I maintained my glass of wine.
In conclusion, aging brings a mix of challenges and liberations. While physical changes like chin hair, neck wrinkles, and thinning hair are part of the journey, they are overshadowed by the personal growth and newfound confidence that come with age. Embracing these changes allows for a richer, more fulfilling life.
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