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So yeah, that was another birthday...
So yeah, that was another birthday, although we're putting off actual celebratory things until DragonCon next weekend, due to exhaustion and deadlines and whatnot. So I did some work (basically tossed the last two chapters of the WiP and replotted the whole thing), got my hair cut, went to a street fair/flea market with a friend, and had a simple but yummy dinner (flank steak + vanilla + yogurt + tahini + fresh pita = probable proof of a loving god).
And came home to well over 400 birthday wishes on Facebook.
As days go, it was a good one.
I've been thinking a lot about this birthday. I'm 46. I... am not sure what 46 is supposed to feel like. By the standards of the modern world I've reached middle-age, and that's allegedly (if you ask Them) the knell of Doom for a woman. And yet... "middle-aged" doesn't fit me, when I look in the soul-mirror. Or the physical mirror, for that matter.
I'm older, yes. Wiser, finally. I've learned so much about myself in the past fifteen years, changed and grown and made hard choices. And I'm good with that. And I'm good with the knowledge that I'm not done growing, or changing. In fact, I anticipate growth and change, even knowing that sometimes it's painful and awkward. Maybe that's it? If I don't like something, if I'm not enjoying something, I change it. If I want something, I go after it. Too old? Settled in my ways? Worn down? Fuck that noise.
Inwardly, the difference between thirty-six and forty-six is negligible.
Outwardly? So yeah, I'm not in the age bracket most people consider 'ideal' or 'most attractive' for women. I'm a little creakier than I was even five years ago, and there are lines on my face and white in my hair. But the lines turn up into smiles far more often than frowns, and the white catches the sunlight and glints beautifully against the brown. I'm still strong, agile, and healthy, and all the bits work (except the bits that haven't worked since I was in my 20's).
And so, well, if this is 46, then I'm good with that. Which is a plus, since I don't really have any other option (other than lying about/denying my age, which seems silly.)
And came home to well over 400 birthday wishes on Facebook.
As days go, it was a good one.
I've been thinking a lot about this birthday. I'm 46. I... am not sure what 46 is supposed to feel like. By the standards of the modern world I've reached middle-age, and that's allegedly (if you ask Them) the knell of Doom for a woman. And yet... "middle-aged" doesn't fit me, when I look in the soul-mirror. Or the physical mirror, for that matter.
I'm older, yes. Wiser, finally. I've learned so much about myself in the past fifteen years, changed and grown and made hard choices. And I'm good with that. And I'm good with the knowledge that I'm not done growing, or changing. In fact, I anticipate growth and change, even knowing that sometimes it's painful and awkward. Maybe that's it? If I don't like something, if I'm not enjoying something, I change it. If I want something, I go after it. Too old? Settled in my ways? Worn down? Fuck that noise.
Inwardly, the difference between thirty-six and forty-six is negligible.
Outwardly? So yeah, I'm not in the age bracket most people consider 'ideal' or 'most attractive' for women. I'm a little creakier than I was even five years ago, and there are lines on my face and white in my hair. But the lines turn up into smiles far more often than frowns, and the white catches the sunlight and glints beautifully against the brown. I'm still strong, agile, and healthy, and all the bits work (except the bits that haven't worked since I was in my 20's).
And so, well, if this is 46, then I'm good with that. Which is a plus, since I don't really have any other option (other than lying about/denying my age, which seems silly.)
Selfie at 46. No makeup, no touchups. No problem.
Getting older,,,and not
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It just dawned on me that I've known you for almost half your life. There aren't many adults I can say that about.
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Oh, and you look great. As a 44 year old, I appreciate that.
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Take that as you will.
(I guess now it'd be "that nice professor who turns out to be the serial killer?" I can totally rock the professorial look...)
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And a belated Happy Birthday from this side of the Atlantic. (Still feeling slight frazzled from 400 miles in the car, in rain that was so bad at one point I aquaplaned for only the second time in my life.)
You know, when you were born, I was a few weeks off being sent away from home for the first time. Still, at least I was still in the same country - my mother was only 6 when sent away to a different country for school.
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May the Goddess grant you good health, happiness, and prosperity for the coming year. And may a warm breeze blow at your back.
Hope it was a good birthday! :)
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And Amen, Sistah. I hope to approach my birthdays the same way.
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I left L.A. when I was 46 and I just turned 60. And honestly? I feel the same as I did when I first moved here. The important thing is feeling good about yourself. By your "no problem" bit, I see you've figured that out. ;-)
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