Ok, I’m going to be 48 going on a perennial 18. Here are some of my gripes and likes about “all that”.
– Lipstick isn’t an accessory; it’s equivalent to a tacky push-up bra with extra padding
– Reminiscing about when the word “poet” used to inspire women and men to become language purists.
– Remembering the days when you had to choose between ballet and piano for your side hustle. And it was a real dilemma.
– Listening to opera and knowing nobody else who does.
– Knowing right away wtf Black Moon Lilith is…it’s your Aunt Haspy from Hong Kong who comes to see how much dirt is between your shower door tracking and tells your mother her daughter will never amount to anything useful. Best to marry her off while she is still pliable.
– Finding 30-something guys with muscular build really really cute
– Finding 60-something men with muscular build irresistible (because they can’t run as fast.)
– Hitting the gym
– Hitting the yoga mat
– Finding that new wrinkle on your forehead “just unacceptable” and forgetting about it as soon as you walk away from the mirror
– Dressing like an 18-year old and being hit on by 16-year olds who can’t tell you’ve just dyed your hair black
– Having the 50-year old uncle of these 16-year olds tell them off and then having to deal with him hitting on you, too
– Wanting romance but being acutely aware that all the decent men are either taken or gay, and those that do want you are sleazes who like your apartment better than you do.
– Finally realizing the there are no answers, only questions onto to which sanctimonious people force-fit answers, in order to boost their power ratio.
– Recognizing that there are no “should-do’s” or “must-do’s” or “you-have-no-choice”, but only “That might be better, perhaps.”
– Identifying personally with the Prometheus and the Sisyphus myths. And it sucks.
– Understanding that politeness and diplomacy go a long way, unless you’re a Scorpio and Jupiter the lucky planet is in your sign all this year.
– Internalizing the realization that deference to others is like water—it is the softest kind of power.
– Realizing that being critical isn’t the only way to lose friends, but by just being yourself is good enough.
– Having a grungy, little kid run right smack into your lower body at a busy mall play area, and you soften to absorb the impact, only to turn around from that “wtf” shock to make sure he’s okay–and then moving on without making a scene.
You know what? We 40-somethings are waaaaay cooler than we give ourselves credit for. Vive la différence! ~V
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