Stumbling Through the Years

A subject that is very close to my heart these days is aging or to put it bluntly, getting old. The phrase "growing old gracefully" would never be used to define my process. I am finding myself stumbling through the years.

For so long, I've dreaded growing older. It didn't matter that it was going to happen unless my ashes had been scattered to the winds. It mattered that I didn't want to ever be old. So, I have fought it all the way. I color my hair to hide the grays. I take vitamins and supplements to help hide the sagging skin and aching bones. I don't dress my age (though I'm not exactly sure how a woman my age dresses). On a good day, I can pass for less than 40 and that makes me happy.

However, something I have discovered is that while I care how I look, being a woman of a certain age affords me things that I haven't considered. I am more willing to let go of certain inhibitions. I don't care if people stare if I am on the arm of a man considerably younger than myself. I dress how I feel comfortable and if someone is uncomfortable with that, then that someone can bite me. I tend to speak my mind a bit more. I'm not afraid to flex my brain and show my intelligence. I'm also a bit more willing to admit that I'm wrong. Aging has afforded me all of this. 

When I speak, I speak from experience and mistakes . When I give advice, I don't sugarcoat the words. I'm blunt and to the point. I don't promise that my advice is the best, but I do guarantee that whatever it is, you'll get through it. 

I've learned to take care of me, for me. It may mean a day of grocery shopping, cooking, and doing my hair. It may also mean lying in bed, watching shows to soothe my soul, and letting go of whatever is on my mind. I'm not afraid to take some time for me. Some days, I still want to build a blanket fort, crawl inside with some chocolate milk, Cheetos, and a good book, and kill a day, but I keep struggling through the pain.

I have also learned to not be so restrictive on myself. I don't deny myself the things that make me happy. People, especially women, used to approach me and make rude comments about my clothing choices. Women, I didn't know, thought their opinion needed to be heard. Quite frankly, I don't let them get to me anymore. It still happens, but I don't let it bother me. If you feel the need to comment on my weight, my hair color, my marital status, or my clothing, trust me, it says more about you than it does about me.

And I'm learning to like myself. There are still days when I look in the mirror to get ready for work and groan. But there are more days when I can look at my reflection and like what I see. I know the woman in the mirror is trying her best. I know her heart and her soul are good. I know that the twinkle in her eye shows her mischievous side. I know that underneath the plethora of colors on her head lies a brain filled with knowledge and aching to know more. I know the hands applying the make-up have worked hard and played just as hard. I also know the body may be soft and squishy, but it has been held by the very best this world can offer.

I will never be one who ages with grace. I will continue to stumble through the years, but I will do it with style and confidence. And if I'm lucky, maybe most people will mistake the stumble for a dance.

Many, Many Moons Ago...

The other day, one of my Facebook groups asked us to post our senior picture along with a current one. And I love participating in weird things, so I began the hunt for my senior photos. It took me into a tote that has been sitting in isolation since I moved here almost 6 years ago. I don't have much need to walk down memory lane, so I let it sit and gather dust.

I didn't have to dig too hard to find the portfolio of photos from my senior year. I opened them up and laughed to myself. That girl is those photos isn't me. That girl had blondish hair and no life experience. She wasn't dressed in any way I'd consider dressing these days. The funniest thing of all? I remember my mother reminding me to "not wear so much make-up" that day. The girl in those photos wasn't wearing as much as I do now. 

Was she beautiful? I think so. She had a cocky confidence that comes with youth. She was sure she was going to take the world by storm. She had plans and dreams. Not big ones, but ones that she vowed would take her out of the "one horse town" she grew up in. 

However, as I looked at my current picture, I saw something I've been missing. Just as that 18 year old was beautiful in her naivete, I'm just as beautiful now with some trials and tribulations under my belt. I've made a few dreams come true and up until the other day, I'd basically given up on dreaming any more. After all, at my age, what can I actually accomplish? Then, it hit me. I'm allowed to dream just as big and loud as that 18 year old did. I'm allowed to set goals and make things happen. I still want to change the world. Maybe not in such a major way as the 18 year old thought she'd do, but change it in smaller ways. 

I found my strength and power somewhere along the way. I've left the one horse town I grew up in and been a lot further from that spot than the 18 year old could have imagined. I've lived in places that I would never go back to and I found my heart in the one place I vowed I'd never go. (My dad promised me I would live in the place I'm at now (though I said, "You're crazy, old man!"). I just wish he'd have known that I'd find the reason my heart beats here.) Home isn't the place I came from so long ago, but a place that is about 2 hours north of where I am now.  I've got a lot more confidence than that 18 year old had. And a helluva lot more determination. 

Beauty doesn't come from the outside like that 18 year old believed. Beauty comes from growth, strength, and confidence of living your life on YOUR terms. Beauty lives inside of you until you crack and break under the stress of life. Then, beauty oozes out through those cracks and shows the world just what true beauty is.

So, how did you find your beauty? (Don't be shy! I know it's there, whether you see it or not.) Talk to me! Tell me your story! 

I Am Beautiful at 47

Being beautiful, fortunately, doesn't have an expiration date. You can be beautiful at any age. It isn't only the young women with their golden locks or the older women with their gorgeous grays. Every woman is beautiful at every age.

So, let's really get this journey started, okay? I am 47 years old and am on the downhill tumble to 48. And, trust me, this is not easy for me. I had so much I wanted to do and I expected to be in such a different space than I am in. However...I am so very blessed and I can honestly say that I wouldn't change a thing.

For years, I was told to act my age. I've always refused. Why act older than you feel? Why is it an embarrassment when women don't act in a manner that society believes they should portray at a particular age? Call me a rebel, but dammit, I am tired of society telling me who I should be!

I color my hair fun colors. I dress a lot younger. But, what's inside, now that's where the attitude lives. Anyone who knows me outside of the internet knows there is a HUGE attitude within me and often it emerges in ways that some would call "rebellion".

My mother will tell you that I was born with the attitude of living life on my own terms. And why change that now? I spent a lifetime trying to fit into the molds I was told to fit into and I wasn't happy. Once I broke free of everyone else's expectations, I've been told that I am more myself than I have ever been before. Well, look at that, will ya? 

I've also been told I carry myself with confidence. Now, that I will laugh at simply because I have very little. At least, when it comes to my looks. My brains and my knowledge of certain subjects? Absolutely. My mind is a very unique place and I know what I know and I know it well. Put me on a college campus and you can rest assured that confidence oozes from my pores. However, you put me out in the world and I try to meld into the background. (How a woman with multicolored hair does that, I'm still not sure.)

Yesterday, I was at work. There was a client that came through the office doors and her words touched me. "I'm so glad you're here. You know so much and can answer just about any question. I'm just so thankful." I laughed and told her that I had her fooled since I'm just fumbling along most days. It made her chuckle, but, damn, it felt good to hear that I'm helping people.

I've spent 47 years on this planet and I've learned a lot of lessons along the way. I live softly and love loudly. I believe most people are good and deserve to be loved. My heart is filled to overflowing with compassion, empathy, and pure happiness. I've been through Hell, but I've come out ahead. My wounds and scars are what makes me unique and my uniqueness makes me beautiful...to the outside world. 

I've got a long way to go and I'm learning new things about myself every single day. And you, my dear, are not alone. We are all in this together. 

Be humble and kind to others, but most importantly, to yourself. This life isn't about the destination, it's all about the journey. And, I think, we're all in for one helluva ride!