Another Birthday, another year older.
I frequently say when asked my age, that in my head I am only 19 years old, I have said that for years, probably since I was 19. But do I really believe that anymore? I am not so sure. I know that I don’t think I feel my real age but actually what is that supposed to feel like anyway?
I know that depending on who I am with I feel different ages, when I am with my older siblings for example, I still feel like the little sister. I wonder when that will change, or will I always feel like the little girl in their company?
What does each age feel like? Is it really to do with age? I don’t think so. I think it is to do with experience.
Recently I gathered over 100 pictures of my husband from when he was a baby until his present age and it was fascinating to see the aging process, although he still looks at least 10 years younger than his actual age.
When I look in the mirror the changes in appearance are all too obvious. I have unfortunately been grey since my early 20s and despite a brief flirtation with going ‘au naturelle’ with the hair a couple of years ago I have been a slave to hair dye ever since.
When I embraced my grey, I felt brave. It didn’t signify getting older I was just accepting that my genes were disposed to grey hair. Lots of women kept telling me it looked great, and I should stay grey. It was interesting that the comments were from women. Was I doing something they were not brave enough to do? Then a friend gave me a holiday photo of myself. With grey hair. And I looked at this ‘old’ woman in the picture and did not recognise the person I felt in my head. I wasn’t 19, I was old. That was the catalyst for the return to the bottle. Of hair dye.
I was so pleased with the return to my dark hair, I felt I looked younger. It made me happier to see that person in the mirror. So for the forseeable future, my Boots card will be logging 6-weekly purchases of the chosen shades of dark brown that takes my fancy.
But what to do about the other signs? I will never be able to afford cosmetic surgery so they will have to remain as they are ( unless I win the lottery ). However it will be how I am feeling in my head that matters the most. I can ignore the woman in the mirror but the girl in my head, she is the constant reminder. So perhaps I will stay 19, a time when life was relatively carefree, and I could be as daft as I wanted.