Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Facing another five

Me, beading at Sculpterra.
I remember turning five years old; it meant that next September I could go to school. I was so excited; I was going to read and do math all day, and it would be wonderful. My mom told me that I came home in tears the first day; when she asked me what was wrong, I let out a wail, "All they wanted us to do was PLAY!"

Not surprisingly, that one made it into family legend. And thus started my precarious relationship with half-decades.

Fast forward to age 15: now, that was another big-anticipation year. In my mind, I was no longer a kid at 15. How could I be? Magical 16 was up next, and I knew my whole life was going to change. I would find a boyfriend, stop being so shy and insecure, and finally learn how to be popular.

Erm, not. But it was a nice thought.

25, and the sudden realization that I'd passed a quarter-century on earth. How could I have felt so old when I was so young? Looking back, I can't understand why I felt that way, but I did. I had been married for two years by then, and thought that this was how the rest of my life would be. Luckily, I felt much younger by the time I turned 35; options are a nice thing to have.

35 was a fabulous year. I discovered that I had choices; I realized that I wasn't nearly as old as I thought I was, and I started over. I got out of a bad marriage, opened up to friends, and found the love of my life. Can't beat that; the fives were finally on my side.

45 was a blur. I was homeschooling my kids, and we spent 6 months of that year living in the UK. It was an exciting time, and a birthday without any real emotional baggage to carry. I hit that five and cruised on by without even really thinking about it.

And now I'm facing the big 5-5. It's been a strange run-up to it: this January I suddenly decided to stop coloring my hair and let the grey grow out (I started going noticeably grey in my 20s, so hair color and I have been a team for three decades now) and I'm trying to be comfortable with the fact that my original weight loss goal may have been just a wee bit unrealistic, and I'm probably not getting my 20-year old body back.

(ya think?)

I'm trying to be realistic about it, but failing pretty miserably. I don't feel slightly plump and grey-heaired; I still feel trim and blonde. But I'm going to be 55 this year! First-level senior citizen! I am not a hottie anymore, and I resent like hell that I didn't even know I was hot when I was!

(And I don't want to hear a word from 60-somethings; I know I'm not as old as you, and I know you're handling it better. This is my whinge, and I mean to have it.)

Oddly, now that I've written this, I feel a whole lot better. I can laugh at myself now that it's out in the open; I'm hoping that the free-floating misery that has been dogging me will go away now and let me enjoy these last three weeks of being not-55. Here's to grey hair and a pouf-y tummy.

Maybe being 55 won't be so bad.

4 comments:

The bad Liz said...

Brave woman to embraced your grey. I am (at 54) resisting that...

Melissa Vess said...

NO matter your hair color or your weight you will always be a beautiful woman inside and out!!!!!!! Embrace 55, you can be proud of they way you are living!!

NEDbeads said...

I love your hair, and you're far from poufy - but I know how differently we see ourselves than the folks on the outside - you and I have talked about it enough, certainly!! :) I think you're amazing, and can't say so often enough. What counts, what really really matters, is your heart, your soul, and your mind - and all three of these particular things are perfect in you, AS you. If no one's said today... you're awesome. You rock my world every day. (((((Cynthia)))))

Sally Anderson said...

Geez, I feel like I could have been your ghost writer on this post. Lots of shared sense and feelings. I love your hair too. It looks really pretty. I also agree with Nancy. It your heart, mind & soul that are more important and you are stellar in all 3. It's a pleasure to know you!