Updated: Aug. 12, 2023
Originally Published: April 7, 2023
Young Girl: I really like this color palette.
Me: It’s quite trendy, isn’t it?
Young Girl: Wow. You’re the first adult I’ve met who actually said trendy.
I paused, trying to wrap my head around her comment. Did she just imply that I’m old?
She beamed at me, her eyes shining with excitement, as if she had just discovered an ancient artifact—one that might have heard of the band BTS. Her enthusiasm was palpable.
Me: Well, back in my day, we called them alternative.
Young Girl: The shoes?
Me: No, the style.
Young Girl: That’s awesome that you know that.
Never did I imagine I would find myself in this situation. In my mind, it still feels like the early 2000s, and I can hardly believe that Madonna could be anything but 30. Yet, here I am, acutely aware of the changes in my body. The skin on my hands seems to be stretching in ways I never considered possible, and the emergence of stray chin hairs has become an unfortunate reality. For every one I pluck, it seems two more take its place. Soon enough, I may be racing my partner to the grooming tools each morning, just to maintain a semblance of order.
Children also respond to me as if I hold some sort of authority. They heed my words at the playground when I ask them to stop their antics. Somewhere along the line, I transformed into someone they instinctively respect, simply because I appear “old” enough. And the frequency with which I’m addressed as “ma’am” is steadily increasing.
Being called “ma’am” has become a disheartening rite of passage that signals:
- I no longer possess the youthful appearance I once felt I had.
- My tastes in music have diverged significantly from mainstream trends.
- Most young adults now look like they just graduated high school.
- Fashion has changed dramatically since my youth.
- Every tween I encounter today was likely still a dream at the time I finished college.
In my twenties, I could indulge in an entire pizza and still shed pounds effortlessly. But now, at thirty, my body seems intent on storing every calorie in places I never imagined, like the area I affectionately refer to as “the side muffin.”
Exercise in my twenties was primarily a social activity, an excuse to fit into cute, flirty skirts. Now, my skirts resemble bed linens, and their only movement comes from my children playing underneath them as if they were their latest fort. Maintaining fitness has shifted from a fun activity to a necessity—not just for aesthetic reasons, but to preserve my mobility as I age. Without regular activity, I risk becoming stiff and might even injure myself just by bending down to pick up a stray cat toy.
It’s not just my physical form that is aging; my entire lifestyle has shifted as well. My evenings, once filled with late-night outings, now require planning around babysitters and reasonable return times. When I have the opportunity for a night out, I often decline invitations to loud bars at 8 p.m. because I’m already snuggled in my pajamas.
I’m becoming more aware of my age, and it appears that others are too. But, looking ahead fifty years, I won’t be concerned about unsightly chin hairs anymore. I’ll have likely found creative uses for that extra skin, such as storing coupons or my AARP membership card. I still won’t recognize contemporary pop artists, and I can only imagine how my “side muffin” will evolve.
As I stroll around my retirement community, wearing my well-loved Converse in faded colors, I’ll still hold onto the belief that the 1990s were just a decade ago and that Madonna is still eternally youthful.
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In summary, aging can be a challenging experience, especially when you feel a disconnect between your youthful spirit and your physical appearance. It’s essential to embrace the changes while maintaining a sense of humor and self-awareness. The journey of life is one of constant transformation, and an open mind can make all the difference.