The Magic Number
The old adage is that you should never ask a woman her age, so I will just tell you! As of today, I am 49 years and 315 days young. Which, for you non-math types, means that in 50 days, I will turn 50.
Needless to say, it’s been on my mind a lot lately. And since I like to think about thinking about things, right now I’m thinking about why we think so much about age. (That’s a lot of thinking!)
I remember as a teenager setting a completely ambiguous and irrelevant target to be married with two kids by 30. So you can imagine my angst during my 29th year when there were no marriage prospects in sight. I was spending time with partners with whom I could barely commit to watching a full TV season, never mind wanting as a baby daddy.
But 30 came and went and life only got better. First, there was a move to NYC where I had a short but incredible experience. Then back to Toronto to climb the corporate ladder in advertising, prior to launching my own entrepreneurial endeavour with sweetspot.ca. In what seemed like the blink of an eye I was married, mothered and making my entrepreneurial dreams come true with a significant exit to Rogers Publishing.
Then 40 started to rear its head in the distance and back came the panic. Given that I had a geriatric pregnancy (who the hell came up with that depressing name?), I had a late start on motherhood which at times made me feel young (hanging out with the young moms in the playground) and old (hanging out with the young moms in the playground). I celebrated 40 with an intimate dinner party of friends, and felt nothing but sheer joy for my beautiful life.
Enter the forties. There have been enough ups and downs to induce vomiting. Multiple heartbreaks, including a business gone bust and a conscious uncoupling, along with the birth of a new business (actually three new businesses) are all on my list of highs and lows. Just when I thought I had no capacity for more of anything, I managed to form some incredible friendships (and it’s hard to compete with my original crew), forge new paths and find my voice with this blog.
And here we are. This year has already been filled with an overabundance of stress and I’ve been doing the march to 50 at the same time. When I watch television and they speak of “a middle-aged woman,” I picture a matronly sort with her mom jeans and out-of-date haircut. But now, I AM THAT PERSON!
People say that age is just a number. Does that mean we shouldn’t act our age? Or should we? One of the benefits of being on the road this long is the collection of relationships and lessons I’ve picked up along the way. So if aging means more learning and more loving, then I’m ready to be old AF.
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to lay down and let the wrinkles and grey hairs take over me. I believe we are only as young as we feel, so I work hard to feel my best, whether that’s keeping fit, socializing with friends (even if it’s distanced), and putting myself together (and by together, I mean stylish sweats and sneakers and the no-makeup makeup look).
So this is (almost) 50. Due to this global pandemic, there will be no lavish celebrations or exotic getaways, but thanks to all of the beautiful friends and family who’ve been with me for all or part of the last 49, I know it will be a perfect score.