Women, life, happiness
  • “I’m a little freaked out about turning 40.”

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    August 12th, 2010Keryl PesceLife in general

    Really? What about it freaks you out? That the best years are behind you? Or maybe that your caboose is what's behind you and that soon-to-be forty-year-old caboose  is carrying a little more junk than it did at twenty? Perhaps it's just that you've developed the belief that forty is just plain, well, old.

    I got news for you. Old is a moving target. When I was twenty, yes, admittedly, to me, forty was wrinkles, slightly worn out and a little misshapen. Just being honest here. 

    If you are twenty-something and reading this, you probably feel a twinge of pity for the nearly-senior lady who asked me this question. If you're sixty or eighty-five,  (Yes, I have 85-year-old Happy Bitch followers – sold a shirt to one last week. How fun is that?) you likely want to smack her and tell her to get over it.

    I'm quite proud to say that I am in my forties. I have personally experienced the much-dreaded birthday. And I'm going to give you the cold, hard truth about exactly what happens the minute you turn forty. Ready? Here it is. You are sixty seconds older than you were the minute before. That's it. Don't make a bigger deal out of it than it is.

    "Yeah, but, when I was younger, I looked better, I felt better, I was more care-free, I had my whole life ahead of me. I feel like it's down-hill from here."

    OK, let me slap you now. Because as long as you keep telling yourself that, you will believe it and WHACK, you will live it. Sorry, I needed to get your attention.

    Get over it. Decide (yes, that's all you need to do), that you will use forty to inspire you to come alive, to live happier and better than you ever did. Never before this moment have you known as much as you do now. That's pretty cool. What are you going to do with it?

    Need a little more encouragement? Look around you.

    As a matter of fact, go to the drug store, book store or grocery store this week. Stroll by the fashion magazines and take a gander at who is on the cover. Can't wait? OK, I'll tell you. Glamour - Jennifer Lopez , 41, Redbook – Sheryl Crow, 48, Elle – Julia Roberts, 42, Harpers Bazaar – Jennifer Aniston, 41, Vogue – Halle Berry, 43. The September issue isn't out yet, so I don't know, but the August issue of Shape, featured Marisa Tomei, 45, and that is one hot tamale! These are all gorgeous, bright and fabulous females.

    Do they use botox, personal trainers and plastic surgery to look as good as they do? Beats me. Certainly not all of them. As a matter of fact, Julia Roberts voices her opinion clearly against botox. The point is this. Your age is all about how you think and feel. That, my friend is all in your head. It's simply what you decide to be. If you want to look and feel old, keep thinking old. Don't take care of yourself. Eat garbage and screw exercise.

    Or, choose to be the best damned forty-something, fifty-something or seventy-something you can possibly be.

    My mother, in spite of a few laugh lines and hints of the earth's gravitational pull (love you Mom) is out of control at 69. She just came back from a week-long sailing cruise with her sisters (rumor has it, although she won't admit it, she went a little "pirate"). She trudged out in the middle of the night, in below-zero weather this past March to see the Northern Lights for the first time. Just three years ago, she became a 46'er. What is that for you non-northern nature lovers? Her sixty-six-year old body finished climbing every single one of the Adirondack Mountains. Go Mom!

    My great uncle, who missed 100 by just two months, went out to dinner for his 90th birthday. That's quite a feat for many at ninety, but guess where he went?  Freaking Cancun. I'm not kidding you. During spring break! (Can you blame him?)

    Basically, you've got two choices no matter how old you are or how old you are worried about becoming. And by the way, how messed up is it that we worry about getting older? Would you rather not? Really. Come on. Anyway, you have no choice about getting older and the fact of the matter is, the alternative ain't so hot. So either keep worrying about it, which, as you know, will actually make you older.

    Or, take the Red Bull by the horns. Take better care of yourself than you ever have and kick forty's ass! Live it baby. Make it the time of your life. I sure as heck am. It's what a Happy Bitch does.

     

     

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