I’m going to be 45 this year.
And by no means am I ‘aging gracefully’ – whatever that means.
It’s not like I’m fighting getting older (anymore), but I think I’ve given the thought of aging a lot less importance in my life.
I’m a not as neurotic about the fact that I’m one year closer to 50 … and several years further from the wrinkle-free years (I wasted on dating guys who were not Gerard Butler). I guess I’ve come to terms with my age (and not dating Gerard Butler), along with the changes it brought (like pre-menopause & readers); and now I just exist in this zen-like, ‘awake’ place floating above it all. It’s like I can tow the lines of maturity, experience and youth at the same time now.
It’s quite liberating and a little surreal …
Juuuuuuuust kidding.
I’m crashing into 45 this year like a bull in a China shop. Full speed ahead. Literally.
Because although I’ve always said I lived life by the seat of my pants and every day was a bit of a surprise, 44 was really the year I kind of just said, “f*ck it, this is what’s happening right now.”
Obviously, I wouldn’t let go of the wheel until I was for sure that Jesus had my back with that emergency break. But my life isn’t together, my grays are out of control, spot-shaving has become an art and I’ve discovered pastel florals and a taste for sugarless coffee.
However, I don’t fixate on those things while trying to navigate that “line between maturity and youth” - which is a phrase I didn’t make up. I either heard or read it somewhere. It sounds so poetically profound, though, right? But it basically just means I’m immature until I need to step up and be a grown up.
To be honest, I’m just amazed that I’ve raised a 20 year-old human and also still have the same boyfriend I met on Tinder a few years ago. It’s the important things, right?
Every birthday after 40 used to be a time of self-reflection for me. What have I learned? What don’t I care about anymore? What are my goals and is blogging about them going to make me any more accountable and successful in achieving them? (The answer to that is no, by the way.) Are people really interested in stories about my ex? (Turns out, yes, they are, but I digress.) Does anyone even really care about my gut issues and love/hate relationship with fitness?
Am I really self-reflecting about self-reflecting right now?
Honestly, I don’t really spend much time reflecting on the past anymore. If there’s something I set out to do and I didn’t do it, it wasn’t that important. And as long as the important things get done, that’s all that matters.
Looking back at shoulda-, woulda-, coulda-beens is counter-productive. Actually, I have identified a LOT of things that are counter-productive - the main one being social media.
One of my favorite quotes from Warren Buffet is:
“It can be far too easy to get side-tracked from your own vision when you consume yourself with everyone else’s.”
On social media, it’s super easy to watch and get sucked into what everyone else is doing. There’s no getting online for just a few minutes - before I knew it, I’ve wasted too many of my own minutes living other people’s lives through my newsfeed.
Or I’d get sucked into browsing special interest pages and groups and it would discourage me from my own creativity and suck my confidence dry.
Then there are the political post debates that I get trapped into trolling because sometimes a girl’s just gotta have fun, ya know? And I’m not online to try and change anyone’s minds as much as I’m there to blow minds.
I don’t know with what yet, it just sounded bad ass to type that out, so I rolled with it.
Anyway, it’s a time-thief and even though I’m still on social media I don’t waste the amount of time I used to anymore.
I just stopped. I’ve unfollowed or left groups that kept me glued to my social media feeds and
only joined or followed ones that served a purpose to me. It’s not personal to anyone or any group in particular, but it is personal to me that I get rid of the distractions that keep me from living my best life and doing the best I can at what I do. It’s no one’s fault - social media is addictive.
It’s not an apology.
I have a beautiful, smart kid, a hot Alpha boyfriend who adores me, parents who love seeing me everyday, brothers that keep me grounded and great friends (and client friends) who support and encourage me everyday. Life may not really be short, but if you spend it talking at things instead of to your people, before you know it, that time is gone and so are your people.
If you want to know what’s both liberating and empowering, it’s logging off technology and being present in your own life. Something I feel like I haven’t been as much of until this last year … I mean, if I were to self-reflect.
What do I have more time for now? Well, for starters, I have more time to write. I’ve delved into personal projects like prop-making, creative photography, art and even having real life conversations with real people.
Still don’t have the time to start working out again, though, now that I work 7-days a week for the busiest time of my year, but I’m sure I will get there. But I’m not sorry about that nor do I feel like I’ve fallen off a wagon of any kind.
And if social media has driven anything as hard, it has to be the fitness and body-shaming posts. It’s not healthy for anyone regardless of gender or age to feel like they are worthless or not living their best life if they don’t look, eat and workout a certain way and by anyone else’s standards.
Even as I say that, I’m looking at the 15 pounds I’ve gained since I stopped going to the gym and have been semi-self-conscious about for a few months. Like, my boobs look amazing right now and the fat smoothed out the wrinkles in my face, but I’m living in jeggings, leggings and anything stretch right now like a basic bitch with my Spanx shapers.
I just need Ugg boots and a Starbucks coffee to complete my look.
But, I digress.
I guess 45 is going to be the start of my “I don’t give a s**t” years.
And I’m okay with that.
