by Better Not Younger August 24, 2018

When I turned 40 (yes the BIG 4 0 as they say), I found solace in the “40s are the new 20s” cliché. In my head, that meant that our society would be more accepting of a middle-aged woman whose prime had passed. Indeed, my body was then starting to show the consequences of all those indulgent chocolates and beers that have been my companions since my 20s. My skin was showing the marks of all those beach days when SPF did not exist in my universe but Coppertone oil was “my thing” to get the oh-so-hip tan of the 80s.

As it turned out, my 40s were great. I did not experience the Midlife crisis that is so talked about in the media – wearing tiny, provocative clothes; shopping for a new sports car; getting a new husband; doing frantic exercise to make up for the lost years. Instead, I found myself growing in confidence at work and at home, venturing into new challenges, including a new, more rewarding job, and traveling to new countries and cities. I even learned how to cook and to drink good wine instead of or in addition to the usual scotch and beer. I started to nurture friendships more than ever before. Suddenly, extending a business trip for a couple of days to spend that precious time with that friend from my high school days became a must.  Finally, I discovered and came to embrace social media – Facebook and Instagram 24/7 anyone?

How about beauty in my 40s?

I am doing well in that department as well, thanks for asking. Without even realizing, I started to eat healthier, picked up new make-up and skin care tricks and mastered the art of dressing for my body versus dressing for the body I always aspired to have. The only exception to this upgrade: my hair. It started to change, becoming drier, started thinning and became unruly. The products and routines that worked before seem to have lost their potency and there are no new products that seem to help.

And then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, I turned 50. It was time for the cliché again: 50s are the new 30s…  Only this time, I did not need the cliché anymore. I embraced my 50s wholeheartedly. 50’s can be a great time in the life of a woman; all that confidence built in the 40s pays off. I am comfortable in my own skin, my own heart and brain. Even still, not everything is perfect. My hair, for one, is something I am still learning how to handle in my 50s. It continues to have a mind of his own. So as I blew the candles of my 53rd birthday my wish was not that the 50s were the new 30s but that somebody, somewhere invented something to make my hair behave like it did in my 30s.


Better Not Younger
Better Not Younger

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