I wrote this as a blog on MySpace a couple of years ago, when, having sailed through my 30^th and 40^th birthdays with ne’er a thought of the passing years, I’d just turned 50 and was amazed to find myself really depressed by it.   At the time I was assured by my older sister and a couple of her friends that once you get ‘over the hump’ and properly stuck into your 50s it’s fine – better, even!   I’ve put this on here for anyone coming up to this age and feeling like I did then, because I am happy to say that she was right!  And it is better, it really is!

BEING 50..........

…….sucks.

 It isn’t the new 30, or the new 40, or even the new 45.  It’s 50, and my youth is over. 

 Yeah, yeah, okay, I know, thirty years ago when my mother was this age you wouldn’t have found her going out to see bands, or getting hammered with her mates, or still assuming an ageing rock-chick hair do; yes I KNOW it’s probably the best time in the history of the world to be this age, but it still SUCKS!!

 I have never wanted children, but I can’t help being aware that this window of opportunity has been closed to me now, for several years.  I KNOW I look younger than most people’s vision of a 50 year old woman, I know my tastes and way of expressing myself (ha!) are those of a ‘younger’ person, I have good friends ranging in age from 25 to nearly 60, I still know how to party, I still embrace new relationships with the same zest as ever I did, but ….

 ……oh, just BUT!!!!  My face is sagging, I put on weight in an instant, my hair is greying at an alarming rate (I regularly pluck out grey eyebrows), I get aches and pains and, worse, I TALK about them, I make ooh-ooh-ooh noises when I stand up after being in a sitting position for a long time, never again will I sashay down the road being eyed up by men of under 40…

 ……………..as usual, I am sounding more shallow than I meant to.  It isn’t just about looks, or even health.  It’s about the narrowing down of LIFE, the closing down of opportunities, the knowledge that all those things I was going to do, I never did, all those choices I might have made went un-chosen, and now it’s too late, for much of it.  Do not misunderstand me, for I am not moaning about my lot, rather the opposite; I have generally good health, a wonderful family, fab mates and a dear man who loves me, and in this I am rich amongst women.  Yes, yes, I know one can start all sorts of things in one’s later years, and, indeed, should I be of a mind to take up T’ai Chi or learn to Samba/speak Polish, I dare say I will.  Except that all that smacks a bit of being a clichéd ‘jaunty’ 50+ lady, doesn’t it?  I am certainly not ready to have my hair cut into a funky spikey ‘do’ and dyed red, and start wearing witty earrings.  Heaven forbid. 

Look, I know we all go through it.  People older than me tell me that one comes out the other side of it, whereas people younger don’t know what the fuck I am talking about, though their time will come, ha ha ha!!!  At which time I suppose I’ll be telling them all the stuff that people tell me…..   yes, yes, I know there are much worse things that can happen, for instance, not having the opportunity to grow old.  Yes, I know all that.  But, oh, how lovely it would be to have a birthday that begins with a 4, once again…