I’m on the cusp of 39…. I have 4 more months to go before that last golden year of my thirties. You know, before I kick 40’s ass and show everyone how it’s done.
I’m truly not afraid of getting older. In fact, it’s a treat and a treasure to have the privilege of experiencing it. I do hope I get to hit at least 90…. And when I do, I’m letting my inner Crazy Old Lady out to play. Of which I mean saying hugely inappropriate things, smacking hooligans with my cane and wearing the most outrageous clothes I can find. My kids will shudder but my grandkids will say Nana is such a HOOT!!!! Oh, and I think I will take up smoking again when I turn 90. Yep, a cussin’, wizened, wrinkly, wise-assed old bat with a smoke hanging out of my mouth. Yeah. That’s my goal.
But as I am still nestled in the 30’s, I am consistently horrified and amazed at the subtle things my body is doing while entering this stage of my life. I can no longer focus up close, therefore rendering the task of shaving my armpits a guessing game at best. I have the beginnings of a wattle. (Really, I sort of gagged when I typed that.) My eyes have decided to become a bit crepey around the edges. And apparently my love of purses has been taken literally by my face, as I am starting to show bags under my eyes.
But the worst and most surprising of all isn’t the wrinkly bits on my face, nor the couple of “liver spots” I have on the backs of my hands. It isn’t even the grooves on either side of my nose that seem to deepen every time I look in the mirror.
No. It’s the wrinkles above my kneecaps.
I wonder why my kneecaps have wrinkles? Is there a knee cream I should buy? Oil of O’Knee? This is a cruel joke, I think. I do my best to stay in shape. I eat right (most of the time), I practice yoga, I meditate, I run, I bike.
I totally get that my face will show my age. But I was completely blown out of the water when I realized that the rest of my body will too…. Yes, ladies. Wrinkles do not stop at the neckline. Like that stupid energizer bunny, they keep going and going and going….
The only thing that allows me some reassurance in this whole getting old business is one thing.
If I have to get old, then I’m taking all you bitchez with me. And we will be in this together.