Sunday, 25 January 2015

Getting old

Not quite me (yet)
I'm 44. A mere slip of a girl to some; an ageing witch to others. I'm sort of mid-way to being dust, which you might think would make me morose - but it's the opposite, really. We're all going to die, after all, so there's no point worrying about that. Rather, I fit my skin a bit better than I used to, which means I can concentrate on doing what I can do, without getting anxious about how others see me.

And usually, what I want to do is lie in bed and fiddle around on Twitter.

I've had two kids, and they are ace. Generally. I've had one husband - and he was ace at first, but then turned out to be a bit of a nob. But that's ok, because we got a divorce, and now things are better (on both sides, actually). I've been lucky enough to have been employed for most of my working life - fingers crossed, touch wood, spit on a tomato - long may it continue. My mum and dad are still alive. Just about. And I was privileged to have both of my grandmothers around until relatively recently.

It's family that matters, I think, as you're getting on. Family and friends, of course. I imagine that sadness comes only if you find you are older, and you have no one to love. Or who loves you.

As a woman, I'll admit that the last couple of years have been a shock when it comes to mirror action. All reflective surfaces in this house have been turned around. I have turned it into Haven for vampires.

It's something to do with the elasticity of the skin. Or its luminance. Or something. And all of the Kylie Bottie Cream in the world won't replace that. And the wrinkles, having been held off with wallpaper paste for the last ten years, have broken through and now litter my face like sodding cracks on a London pavement.

The temptation is to 'get them done'. To 'mend it' somehow. But I'm not broken - this is supposed to happen, isn't it? It's not like I wasn't expecting it (JESUS! WHAT THE FUCK ARE ALL THOSE LINES DOING ON MY FACE? I MUST BE DISEASED!). We've all seen old people, and they're all liney, aren't they? Apart from the ones who look 'alien-smooth' (Barry Manilow - I'm talking about you.)

I get cross at the media, and at other women, for feeling like they have to 'do something' about their ageing faces and bodies. Because when they 'do' something, it makes me feel uncomfortable that I'm not doing it. It makes me feel that I'm at fault, somehow. But because I also recognise that I'm not at fault, logically, the whole thing makes me very frustrated indeed. I wonder sometimes if, when I'm 80, I'll be the only woman in the old people's home who actually looks 80 - and I'll be surrounded by fellow dementia sufferers who all look to be smooth-faced 40 year olds.

I won't care. I'll be too busy singing Love Shack at the top of my crackly voice and weeing in my chair. And I'll be the only one who can laugh at myself because everyone else's faces will be too tight.

The one thing that does bother me, though, is the slippage in eyesight. I've always had dodgy eyes (long-sighted), but recently I also seem to have become short sighted too - which is a bit of an arse, quite frankly. There's an awful lot of squinting at tiny instructions (most recently on the Canesten tube - where, how much, should I rub it in...?), turning the light on, and eventually asking my children to read it for me. I have reading glasses, but keep forgetting where I put them (premature alzeihmers).

Other signs of ageing? We all know them: liver spots, dry skin, a penchant for period drama...but also a steadyness, a logic, a 'fuck it' kind of attitude. A realisation that, when you go out, no one is looking at the hat you're wearing that you think is awful. An inner contentment. A faint smell of wee.


And then the fun began...


Brilliant blog posts on HonestMum.com

12 comments:

  1. Walking up the stairs and forgetting what you wanted.... forgetting your child's name. Locking the door and 'getting settled'.
    Oh dear.. I'm half way there xx

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  2. Great piece and I can identify with almost all of it, unfortunately. Will share on my FB page - My Midlife Mayhem

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  3. I turned 40 not-so-recently (kicking and screaming) and the 'fuck it' attitude came to me like a lovely birthday present.

    Great post, as always.

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  4. I agree Lottie - I went through a stage of wanting to fix bits of me but right now, I don't really care too much. Obvs i still want to look as nice as possible but I'm not going worry too much if I never again have a 'bikini body'! Thanks for linking up to #thetruthabout with this! X

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  5. Aw love this, you always make me laugh and move me in equal measure-growing up/older means feeling that bit wiser, you put a focus on your priorities, omit the negative people from your life and feel more content. It's awesome really. Thanks for linking up to #brilliantblogposts

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  6. I had a mini (and totally unnecessary) mmeltdown when I turned 30. Bonkers really, as I'm infinitely more confident, comfortable in my skin, wise and slimmer than I was in my 20s. Wrinkles bother me. A lot. Time also seems to be zooming by at a horrible rate as Rachel year passes. My biggest fears for getting older are losing my parents. That's it. The rest I can deal with.

    A great post - humorous and touching all at once :-)

    #TheTruthAbout

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  7. Such a funny post and yep I can relate! It's a shame we don't have this attitude when we're in our 20s. It would save us all so much grief!

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  8. Ha ha this is hilarious! I'm almost 44, have I got a 'faint smell of wee' and knackered eyesight to look forward to? I've already got the liver spots et al. Gah!

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  9. I love your attitude to life. Here's to growing old disgracefully and not caring about what anyone else thinks!

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  10. Lord I laughed at this. Especially the para about singing Love Shack and weeing in your chair. I'm the same age, and recently took delivery of my first ever Nest of Tables with glee and realised, Lord, I'm AM getting middle aged, prompting a blog post on the subject matter. And i totally agree with your 'Oi that's rubbish' attitude to the media trying to keep us women looking 25 as a travesty and down right wrong. Lets embrace those liver spots.....(ehem, well, maybe just a few crows feet then..)

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  11. Hilarious! Had to be careful not to laugh too much in case...well you know what could happen!! I've always wondered if we will still be busting a move at 90 when we hear "Firestarter". Reckon that's a yes.

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