Happy Birthday to me.

Way back in the day, like about age 30, I used to wonder what I’d think or feel like when I reached the advanced ages. Like 40. Then it was, yikes, 50.

Now it’s (gasp!) 56!

I genuinely qualify for membership in AARP. I really do get senior discounts now, although not for skiing which is a drag. Mr. Maven skis for free.

I never could have anticipated that I’d really be ‘Okay’ being this age, but I really am.

In fact, I can’t imagine being anything different.

I’ve survived a lot and had a really, really interesting life, to say the least. I’ve been places and done things that most people, when hearing them, stare at me in disbelief. Give a martini and I can scare the crap out of them.

Hehehehehe. I’m naughty.

The point here is that having been through so much already, I’ve become addicted to ‘experiences’. I want more. Getting older is the only way to that goal.

It’s been such a kick in the pants thus far, that I can’t wait to see what the rest of it brings.

One of the epiphany’s that I’ve had recently, though, is about my physical self. I’ve discovered that you can’t starve yourself into thin youthfulness. Nor can you exercise to that goal … unless that is your entire life, which seems bizarre and unbalanced, not to mention unsustainable.

I’m fit beyond what most people consider acceptable, but that said, parts are shifting and the size 6 doesn’t always work. I really don’t give a rats ass. I put in a reasonable, sustained effort and whatever I am is just fine with me. This really takes the stress levels down.

I wear a hearing aide. It helps me to hear that wisecrack you thought I missed. Your mistake.

I also don’t feel the need to keep up with the young ones anymore. They may have the looks but I have the deviousness and ruthlessness that can only come with age. There are no compromises, no having it both ways here. It’s one or the other. I’ve chose the latter with great delight.

I only have one breast and that’s fine with me. I also don’t care if wearing a bathing suit sans prosthesis bothers people. This is a great teaching moment for the kiddies. Mommy can explain why some people don’t have all their parts, and why that’s okay.

I’m an unabashed atheist and vulgarian. Unrepentant and proud.

I also don’t do everything perfectly. This was always a sticking point. For many reasons, I thought I needed to be perfect and spent a lot of sleepless nights and angst over the slightest thing. Take me as I am, folks. This is as good as it gets.

There are some things that are better now.

I’ve gotten more patient and understanding. I can also deal better with being wrong and needing to be the change that others need.

Sex is definitely better now. Really. Slow, patient and intense. Devoid of artiface.

I’m happy to not be the center of the world. The rest of the world is worthy of exploration rather than exploitation by the self-absorbed.

I’m more comfortable being different, and having a divergent opinion. Back in the day, I was always the one least capable of expressing my opinions openly in public. Not any more. Hehehehehe.

Although my husband would probably say otherwise, I really do want less stuff. I noticed a few years ago that I just didn’t buy stuff or go shopping for recreation like I used to. I’d rather read or blog or simply ‘do’.

I can take more satisfaction in the small moments.

I can’t drink as much, which is good since I don’t want to miss anything.

The meal isn’t as important as the people you’re with and the conversation.

Food isn’t worth a minutes angst over a bad choice for health, weight or well being.

America is a more just place than when I was growing up in the Jim Crow south. Cruelty and injustice still exist, but I feel better able to grapple with it. It’s a far better place for women today, then when I worked in newspaper backshops as a printer.

For every crazy new ‘discovery’ by a friend - from astrology to protein shakes to religion - I can smile and nod, knowing that I’ve been there, done that and thank gawd it’s over.

I’m good with throwing things out or giving them away. Less is much, much more. Lighten the load so you can travel further, longer.

I don’t suffer fools gladly. I tell them to go away before I swat them. Time is precious and irreplaceable.

Cancer is much more treatable, with longer lives as survivors than just a few years ago. It’s still not curable, but our chances improve with each passing day.

Just as with things, I know when to let people go. Self preservation is okay. It’s healthy.

I’m a better listener.

I can genuinely celebrate the accomplishments of others without feeling that it somehow devalues me.

I’m coming around to discovering that potlucks are better than me doing it all to some unattainable Martha Stewart standard. I can, but why would I want to?

My own cooking is better than most restaurants, so you bet I’ll take the senior discount.

Modern music, if you can call it that, sucks. That means anything after the Beatles. I’ll take Frank Sinatra over anybody from American Idol.

I’m okay with “yeah, I was really good at that, but I don’t do it anymore”. Life is about growing and changing and exploring, not about seeing how long you can dig the same rut and like it. People walk through my home and exclaim “ohhhh, why aren’t you painting again?” Because I had nothing more to say. I got tired of it.

This is all very liberating.

I just simply feel lighter and free-er (?) with each passing year, and I wouldn’t trade the journey for anything in the past. I want to age like the classic European women. Slowly, like a fine wine. Wrinkles and all that comes with a very full, well lived life.

I want to see what tomorrow brings.

maven

Comments

[Earl]

Happy Birthday, Maven! And thank you for this most delightful birthday muse. Another gift to your friends and fans!

[bluelyon]

I missed this yesterday! Happy Birthday!

[Ronda]

Happy Birthday! And yes, you have aged like a fine wine over the years.

[What Was Don]

Happy birthday!
56 can be a great age.
Take a look here:
http://www.whatwasdone.com/Age.php?&Age=56