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Today is my birthday. I’m forty three. My family have showered me with love and I’ve received some lovely presents, including a slow cooker, and a pair of microwavable slippers to keep my feet warm. Everything is perfect.
Everything, that is, except the fact that I’m forty three.
Forty three is my ‘old age’. Everyone has an ‘old age’ – the number at which they feel they have left youth behind and moved into a new, elderly stage of their life.
So why forty three?
Forty three is five whole years past thirty eight, which is the last time I wasn’t in my forties, or ‘nearly forty’. It is dangerously close to my mid-forties, which is dangerously close to fifty, which is dangerously close to sixty, which is dangerously close to seventy, eighty, ninety and beyond.
Forty three means I have been an adult for twenty five years, and am old enough to be a grandparent (though as my oldest child is only twelve, the possibility is somewhat remote). Forty three is also considered very old to have a baby, and though I’ve had had my family (and a tubal ligation) I still find that thought strangely disturbing.
What’s more, forty three is half way to eighty six, which is officially a ‘good run’ in terms of lifespan. In other words, I’ve reached the midpoint of the journey, and now I’m just cruising to the finish line at as leisurely pace as possible.
I’ve always thought I’d be one of those people who accepts aging with grace. Well, not only am I not sure that I do accept aging with grace, I’m now not even so sure what ‘aging with grace’ really means.
Does aging gracefully mean not feeing your age? Because I definitely don’t feel forty three. Some days I feel about 140, and on other days I feel about fourteen. It just depends on the situation.
Does aging gracefully mean looking your age? Well, I don’t know if I look my age or not. I don’t even know what forty three is meant to look like these days. Compared to how Bette Davis looked at my age, I think I’m doing very well. Compared to Elle Macpherson, I am falling way behind.
Does aging gracefully mean accepting yourself and not taking excessive steps to halt the aging process? Well, I can’t see myself rushing to get a facelift any time soon (any time ever, actually), but my evening routine of cleansing, toning, moisturising and application of specialised products for ‘mature skin’ takes longer than it does for me to bathe and dress my three year old. With far more mess in the bathroom to clean up.
Still, gracefully or not, I’m aging. And as hard as it is to confront my mortality, as I sit here looking at the card from my kids, with hot slippers on my feet and my slow cooker bubbling away in the kitchen, I smile.
Forty three could look a hell of a lot worse than this.
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I was in denial at 40 and just pretended it didn’t happen. At 41 I accepted I was in my forties … and now also at 43 I just think its ridiculous that I am 43 … actually soon to be 44!
I share your “Forty three is five whole years past thirty eight, which is the last time I wasn’t in my forties, or ‘nearly forty’. It is dangerously close to my mid-forties, which is dangerously close to fifty, which is dangerously close to sixty, which is dangerously close to seventy, eighty, ninety and beyond” thoughts.
I do however stand in front of the mirror and pull my face back tight with my hands and think a facelift would go great, and dream of having enough funds to have regular botox.
But … at least we made it this far hey!
Yes!!!! And I’m trying to be glass half full like you!!!
I think you look amazeballs. Forty-three, Schmorty-three. Suck up those days when you feel 14 and dance like nobody’s watching. I’m 38 and today I feel 98. Most days I don’t feel a day over 68.
Love your work x
So with you on this one. I hit that mark in June. I’d also just had my second baby just prior in March after having my first just two years prior to that. Hoping the two little kiddies keep me feeling young. I know it could also do the reverse, what with the age gap and all, but let’s stay positive, why don’t we?!
Oh to be 43 again! Actually to be 33! I turned 45 this year and I really did get the heebeegeebees (using this word is just confirming how old I am!). That’s just way too close to 50. I tried pretending I could go back one year every birthday since 40 which would make me 35 now, but nobody else wanted to play along. And once I get my uterus whipped out next month I have a feeling I’ll be doing everything I can not to grow old gracefully (watch out Mr Beccibird!).
Hi Kerrie … I turned 45 this year! And with a 9 yr old daughter to entertain, amuse and run around after, as well as working full-time and running a house, there are days when I feel much older than I actually am, but there are others where I have as much energy as our daughter (well, not quite, but you get my drift ….). Love life and laugh lots, that’s the key to staying young.
Oh and I was given your book “When My Husband Does The Dishes” for my birthday and could relate to so much of it. It was a hilarious read. Thank you!
The only depressing thing about 43 is that by now we should be old enough to know better.
You’ve still got it, babe. 🙂 Hope you had a great day.
Don’t forget, this photo has bee Photoshopped. I mean the woman looks at least forty three, and a half………. 😉
Thank you lovey for putting into words what has been bugging me since my last birthday. No matter how well I look after myself I am still going to be 41 which fills me with….. sadness? Wistfulness? I don’t know whatness?
Glad you had a good day though xxx
At 48 I feel what you are feeling. Would give up chocolate to be 43 again … almost. I’m a whisper away from 50 which scares me silly. All of a sudden 40’s sound incredibly sexy and a fabulous place to be – 50 sounds old and reminds me I should be wearing full briefs and throwing away my g-strings. I have a feeling I may start lying about my age soon. Sigh.
I’m turning 44 next month and in the midst of mid-life meltdown I’ve decided this year will be the year of me. I’m treating it as a “project” and am going to achieve all those things I set aside because I was “too busy”, “too broke” or the kids “needed me”. There’s a definite sense that I’m edging over the half-way point in life and things haven’t exactly turned out the way I imagined at 18 … but hell there’s still time to turn it around!