I’m shaking my head right now. Not because I am surprised at how often cutesy articles about the pitfalls of getting old appear in online blogs, but rather for how well received and lauded they are by the reading public. Yesterday’s offering in the Huffington Post attempted to inject humour into 40 things that are ‘effed’ up about turning 40, and I remain puzzled by the gush of praise and disturbed by the amount of people who seemed to identify with the self-indulgent, superficial ideas the writer shared.
It’s not that I don’t get that there are parts about growing old that suck, because I do. Every age has its “effed up” parts, usually determined by the limitations or obstacles that occur at various life stages. More importantly, it also has its joys and its priviledges, not the least of which is the ability to reach it. Perhaps I would be more forgiving of the shallowness of this article if I hadn’t lost a friend this year who won’t ever see 40, but the truth is that I just can’t identify with the musings of the middle-aged woman in question because I don’t choose to be defined by her standards or complaints.
I’m now 50, and I can trace the evolution to my present self back to my early to mid 30s. That is when I consciously shed my cautious and careful younger self and took some chances that those around me found reckless. Meet a mate on the internet? What a frightening idea that was in 1996, but that single act of fearlessness changed my life forever, most of it for the better. It gave me the confidence to trust my decisions, no matter how wild and horrific they seemed in the moment, and to ignore the naysayers who tried to convince me to play life safely.
17 years later, I can tell you what is truly “effed” up about turning 40, and then 50: it is losing friends and family to fatal illnesses, old age, and random accidents, and missing them so much it makes you ache; it is finally having enough money to enjoy the many friends and places you’ve fallen in love with, but not having enough time to see and enjoy them all with the frequency you’d prefer; it is filling your bucket list with two items every time you empty one and realising you’ll never reach the bottom of the pail before your time on Earth runs out.
That’s my list of three: everything else is gravy, which is an odd choice of words for a veteran vegetarian. Being 40, as a dear friend once told me, is about making yourself an “ef off” card, and turning 45 is about getting it laminated. I’d add that 50 is the time when you start waving it about at will. It’s when you seriously consider creating a world around you that sheds negative energies and judgemental folks, and getting rid of anything that doesn’t work for you anymore. Instead, you surround yourself with friends and family who bring you joy and make you laugh—weeping with laughter on a daily basis is a highly recommended, essential component to this joyful existence. It’s also about nurturing your passions and pursuing the acitivites you love regularly, and developing a generosity of spirit so that like-minded people can find you and enter your life.
It’s certainly easier to whine about your weight, your wrinkles, and your outdated wardrobe and musical tastes, but surely being 40 and older means you’re past worrying about those superifical things that seemed so crucial in your teens and 20s. So, in remaining faithful to the theme of the “effing up” of being 40, I offer you these alternatives: let your “efs” be a pledge to be fearless, fierce, fruitful, fabulous, forgiving, fantastic, and frivolous. And if it offends you that someone calls you ‘ma’am’, practice the ‘ef’ of being more like the French and insist that they call you Madame. You’ll raise more than an eyebrow or two.
9 comments:
A lovely piece of writing, Anne Marie! I have not read the article, but your response tells me I would agree with you totally. I also agree with all your 'effs' both sad and positive. Being now closer to sixty than fifty, the important 'effs' to me are freedom, friends, family and being fit and feisty enough to make the most of being fifty something. I celebrate them all every day!
I agree with your post and is exactly what I have been thinking about lately. We are thinking about moving house in order to give us more access to the kind of life we want to lead in our fifties onwards it will mean downsizing and de cluttering and a complete change but Im fed up living my life to please other people and living with neighbours who can't be bothered to say hello. It will take a while to get the house ready to sell but we're doing it and your post has spurred me on.
well - I didn't see the article but I loved yours! I think I would be guilty of posting a great article on how AWESOME this side of 40 is... You know your 40 when you don't give a flying leap whether he calls or not... you're too damn busy being fabulous... etc. etc. etc.
I got curious, so I went to the Huffington Post website and looked for the post that had originated this one by you. I am still rolling my eyes. So I can't agree more with you. I am 35, but I don't think I will ever make such a drama about turning 40, or 50, or even 100. Getting older means that we are still in the world and at it, so people should be glad. As you said, lots of people die before they can see their 40th birthday, so it's nonsense to complain about getting older.
Cinta, I refused to link the post here because I didn't want to give it more credence or traffic. :)
I like your additions to my 'ef' list, Val. Fit and feisty we go!
Ann, good luck with your move. We moved into a house and away from our condo 4 years ago to accommodate some of the changes in our life (dear friends who spend every summer with us) and there has been no regret at all.
Lisa, I knew you'd see it the same way, having read your blog posts over the year.
Cinta, yes, it's amazing that people grumble without realising how fortunate they are to still be around. This is a privilege not accorded to everyone, and I do know the young friend who died last November would not have wasted his time with such twaddle.
This is a GREAT post. Really, I love it. I'm 47 and I hate the compliment of looking younger only because it's not helping. Ageism likely drives the trend of complaining, whiney articles. of course.
Your insight at 30 to forge ahead was just damn wise.
I was thinking the other day, and I am careful to say it, when I turn 51 I'll have outlived an uncle. I'm sorry to say that, except it's true what you say about our thinking in this way: we're alive where others are not. We miss people terribly. What to make of it?
I like I'm a whole lot more bold now, just wish there were more people to play with in boring greenville. dullest place next to the next dull town. There may be someone for me but that's all I'll say about it. I won't hold my breath or even dress for him. Just, they're still around. curious. wanting us more than ever, I suspect.
Nice post about getting older. Enjoyable read AM.
I have so many thoughts about this upcoming 50 in a couple of months. I don't give much thought about numbers. Just lots of thought about what occurs around you as you get older. Just had another family member pass away this week. Not to be a downer, but I now look at family photos and it is a bunch of dead people. That is what I find challenging to deal with.
I am what I am , can't change my age, I just try to make each day a good one.
xo
Gina, I keep thinking what to make of it is to enjoy every second. My menopause ride so far is very heightened, and I am just riding it out and taking it all in. My husband very affectionately calls me his favourite 12 year old. :)
Grace, making each day a good one sounds like a great plan. xx
I love your free form blogging...and I agree! ;D
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