When I was younger, much younger, I thought about the future and how OLD I would be at different points in life. For example, in high school, the idea of being in my 30s sounded extremely old. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting to feel like in my 30s, but I sure thought there would be some discernible change to let me know that I had become old.
This idea of getting older has crossed my mind a few times over the last several months. What initially brought it on was spotting my first gray hair last November (and that is fodder for a post in and of itself). I did not anticipate this particular rite of passage yet. I thought I had at least ten, if not twenty, years before that marker of age came along. It was not to be. The gray hairs have begun to sprout much sooner than I expected. My husband could confirm that I was deeply disturbed, and a little bit obsessed, for a while. In the following months, I have gotten used to it and don’t give it much thought anymore.
The other event that brought my age to the forefront of my mind was my high school reunion. I attended my 20 YEAR reunion last weekend. (If anyone can tell me how this happened, please do. I cannot believe it has been that long.) At any rate, it made me think a little more about the things I believed back then, including how OLD I thought I would be at this point.
Funny thing is, I don’t feel old.
I began to ask myself what age did I think I would be when I finally did start to feel old. The best answer I could come up with was this: No matter my age, I just feel like me.
Like I said, perhaps it should have been obvious.
I’m happy to announce that my teenaged self was mistaken. It turns out that 38 is not old. Who knew?
I look forward to all these years of “just me” that lay in front of me.