The other night I was at a family event. And I forgot how old I am.
I do that a lot.
There I was, in my vegan leather skinny jeans (ok, pleather, but fancier), studded stilettos and cute swingy top, dancing away to top 40 dance hits. As I moved to the music, I felt free.
I looked over at my 21 year old daughter, who was dressed and swaying and shaking too, and felt more like her peer than her mom. My inside voice called out that I too was near the beginning of my womanhood. The years melted away and so did thoughts of work, bills, grey hairs and what’s happening to the texture of my skin.
Flashback: I’m 24 years old. I don’t have a care in the world. I’m not 47, on the cusp of the next stage of my life.
I try to hold on to these feelings. To boost me up.
For when I’m surprised at what I see when I casually glance in a mirror. When I’m putting on body lotion and I see how my skin wrinkles a little like an elephant’s flank. Or when I find a grey hair in my eyebrows (or lady bits). When my knees creak and ache after sitting in a 2 hour movie.
The fact remains though, that no matter how youthful I feel in my head, my outsides and insides are changing. It’s the circle of life. And it’s unavoidable. What’s non-negotiable is that I’m determined to stay me, no matter what.
Just a more improved version. I’m looking forward to the freedom that will come in the next 10 years. My kids will move out and get married (fingers crossed!). My husband and I will have more time to do the things that we love. We’ll keep the romance alive, just like we do right now. And the best? I hear that old ladies get to say whatever they want without fear of repercussion.
For now I’m not letting thoughts of aging creep up on me. My friends spend every Friday night drinking wine, laughing and singing along at the top of our lungs at Friday Night Dance Party. We’re hanging on and shouting out and we’re not going easily into that good night.
Nor should we.
Our age is just a number, it’s not a definer, or so we’re telling our hormones on the days that they rage. It’s what we tell ourselves when we push just a little harder at the gym, when we throw on our sexy lingerie, when we confidently reach a little help from a trusty bottle of K-Y® lubricant* and turn the lights on during romantic moments.
I try to hold on to those thoughts and feelings so that I can remind myself that life doesn’t end once I’ve sped through the perimenopause and menopause years.
Just life as I know it on the outside. I’ve stayed the same and so have you. Who we are as women and as people doesn’t change.
Fact: I was a young soul before, I’m a young soul now, I’ll stay a young soul forever.
But maybe with more knowledge. And strength. And power of my convictions. Did you know that every grey hair makes you smarter?
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Although this post has been generously sponsored by K-Y®, the opinions and language are my own, and in no way do they reflect opinions of the K-Y brand or the Reckitt Benckiser Corporation.