“Please, let’s avoid the age question,” I silently plead as I maneuver through the classroom, hoping to escape before someone asks. All the other parents in my child’s class are significantly younger than me. I wouldn’t dream of lying about my age, but I certainly don’t want to bring it to the forefront.
Unfortunately, my little one chimes in with, “My Mommy just turned 45 today!” An audible gasp escapes me, and I realize that it originated from my own lips. While the other parents are polite, I can sense their surprise. Honestly, I’m shocked too. At 45, I’m not exactly in the middle-aged category; I’m just starting to hit my stride.
Aging has never fazed me much. As the youngest in my family, I grew up surrounded by older siblings. I welcomed my first child at 37, and lucked into a circle of friends who were all older than I was. Even as I approached middle age, I still felt like the baby of the group. Plus, having lived in Los Angeles for longer than I care to admit, I’ve seen many women freeze their age at 29, while I’ve continued to age gracefully. I embraced my age, sharing it openly with anyone who asked, often met with responses like, “You’re still so young!”
However, now that I’m 45, the comments have shifted. People now say, “Wow, you look amazing for your age,” while they subtly scrutinize my skin for any signs of aging. It’s as if I’ve entered an uninvited competition with time. The compliments feel less genuine and more like a consolation prize.
And when I’m not being told how great I look against the backdrop of aging celebrities, I hear, “45 is the new 30!” Let’s be real—45 doesn’t magically transform into 30, especially not with hot flashes and the occasional loose skin. Honestly, 30 wasn’t the best year for me; why would I want to revisit that?
Here’s the reality: everyone younger than you seems keen on reminding you to embrace the aging process. While I feel more accomplished and wise than ever, I also have a 4-year-old at home, and I don’t want to miss a moment of her life. It’s not about how I look; it’s about living fully and not feeling old.
So, the next time a fresh-faced young mom suggests I should rejoice in my age because 45 is the new 30, I’ll set the record straight. “Actually,” I’ll say, “forty-five is the new 46.” I might also ask her about her favorite hot yoga class, fully aware that I’ll probably never attend. The beauty of aging is realizing you don’t need to fit into someone else’s mold. If only I had understood that back when I was 30, a year they say is the new 29.
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In summary, aging can feel daunting, especially when society places so much emphasis on youth. However, embracing your age with humor and confidence can lead to a more fulfilling life experience. At 45, I’m learning that it’s not about looking young; it’s about enjoying every moment with my family and being true to myself.
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