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So yeah, that was another birthday...
Aug. 25th, 2013 08:01 pmSo 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.
