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Now I am Forty-Four

Yesterday was my birthday.  I have reached the grand old age of Forty Four.  Which scares me just a teeny-weeny little bit.  I still don’t know very much and have very little figured out.  I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, and I still keep waiting for my Fairy Godmother to grant me three wishes.

Yesterday was tougher than I imagined it would be.  I wanted to spend the day on my own, like I did last year, but then felt really lonely and sad about being on my own.  Quite a few people forgot it even WAS my birthday and that upset me more than I wanted to admit.  I felt fat and old and uninteresting and invisible.

To be fair, it’s quite possible I am hormonal (or menopausal!) and just down in the dumps for no real reason.  Birthday or no birthday.  I think this year crept up on me and I wasn’t ready.  I know forty four isn’t old.  I know this.

 

Things I know, now that I am forty-four years old

Life doesn’t get easier.  You just get more tired, so your tantrums are less dramatic.

Bingo wings grow all by themselves.  They are an unstoppable force.  You will spend the rest of your life in three-quarter sleeves.  Don’t fight it.

Elastic waist bands are key.

Music now is rubbish.  It’s a totally different thing to when your parents used to say it about your music when you were a teenager.  TOTALLY different.

You will begin to lose the ability to understand adverts on television.  Are they trying to sell you a car or haemorrhoid cream? And why are they so darn loud?

You used to laugh at women who plucked their chin hairs at the traffic lights.  Now you give them a thumbs-up signal and yell “Right with ya, sister!” in solidarity.

Cheese is your enemy and your best friend.  Don’t turn your back on it. 

That lump you’re feeling could be malignant.  Or it could just be one of last night’s cornflakes you had for dinner that stuck to you.  You know, the one that fell down your top and you couldn’t be bothered fishing it out because you were watching Will and Grace.

Your underwear gets increasingly more “sensible”.  They become less floral/pretty/polka-dotty and become more beige.

You will find yourself worrying about fibre content before sugar content.

You will suddenly realise that if you start dating again, it will have to be with men in their 40s and 50s.  Which seems kinda icky.  But if you were a man, you’d start dating girls in their 20s and 30s.  The irony is not lost on you. 

Grey hair grows quicker than any other colour of hair.  This is a scientific fact.  You will go to bed one night a brunette, and wake up the next looking like a badger. 

  If you go to work without makeup one day, people will repeatedly ask you if you’re ill.

  The fact that you’re old enough to remember macrame the first time it became popular, makes you feel like crying.

You will approach spicy food the same way you would approach a barrel full of poisonous spiders – with fear and trepidation.

You will be grateful for everything you have but still have many regrets and coulda-shoulda-wouldas.  Which is ok.  You may be forty four, but you’re still human.    

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Wishing you all a happy day (birthday or not).  Thank you for visiting 🙂 x

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2 thoughts on “Now I am Forty-Four

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