Thursday, March 24, 2011

I think I'm getting old

I know, I know, we're all aging, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day... you get the drift. But I've had a couple of funny experiences recently that have me thinking about being "older." I've been made aware, lately, that people around me don't see me as being as young as I think I am.

The first "event" was about two weeks ago. When I stepped onto the 8:15 a.m. bus on my way to work, there was a crowd of people standing in the aisle because the seats were all taken. It makes me a little crazy when they're all blocking the front of the bus, so I pushed through and moved to the back. When I got there, a teenager jumped up from her seat and said, "You can have my seat if you like!"

I was tempted to reply, "I'm not an old woman!" but the girl wore a genuine smile, and she did mean well. How could I discourage such consideration and generosity? I smiled, told her she was sweet, and sat down, wondering how old the girl thought I was.

Then yesterday, I had a lovely afternoon at the curling rink, watching my dad on his way to becoming the Champion of the Senior's Bonspiel. It was wonderful to be there and to have lunch with Dad... except that everyone was mistaking me for his wife!

I suppose if I dyed my hair like most women these days do, I might look young enough to be taken for Merv's daughter, but I can't bear the thought of putting carcinogenic coal tar derivatives on my head. And besides, it really doesn't matter how old people think I am. True, most Olympic athletes are young enough to hang out with my kids, and most people my age have retired from professional sports. Many women of my demographic are giving up hard core exercise for yoga or, heaven forbid, Zoomba classes, and actors younger than I am are having tummy tucks and botox treatments.

As for me, I feel no pressure to be something I'm not or to do things to prolong my youth. I had my first grey hair when I was twenty three, and a lot more of them have followed it. My body is starting to sag a bit here and there, but it feels strong and vibrant ninety-five percent of the time, and I can still wear clothes I like. Youth was good, but maturity is better, because the pressure's off. When I was younger, I put a lot of effort into how I looked because I wanted to be noticed. Now, I'm just happy to be me.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Take a minute and tell me what you think...