THIS year, I will turn 55. If my mother were alive, she would have winced. She had an aversion to my uncontrollable urge to flaunt my age like some badge of honor. Almost like a purple heart.
My mother was born in 1929. In her time, it was hardly the norm for women to say their age out loud. They were raised to conceal their age like some shameful, little secret they had to guard till the grave.
Why do you have to announce your age? She’d tell me. Why not? I’d retort. I’m not ashamed of my age. I’m proud of it. I will not submit to societal norms. I will make my own norms. Women should not be enslaved by a number.
And this was BC (before cancer). AC (after cancer), beyond pride, I’m simply delirious to turn a year older. Now, I carry my age like a well-deserved purple heart.
Yes. Cancer has a way of making you appreciate your far from perfect life. That’s the gift a cancer diagnosis gives you—gratitude for a second chance at life, notwithstanding its non-instagrammable status.
Sure. It would be nice to be zit, wrinkle and flab-free but if I can have good health, sanity and peace of mind, it would be absolute bliss. Of course, if I could be fit, feisty and fascinating as well, I would be beyond ecstatic.
I confess I used to be guilty of ageism. Obviously, not anymore. I can’t possibly be prejudiced against my own. Now, I think old people are wonderful. I’m one of them now. It’s called self-love.
Youth is overrated. I mean, what do I really miss about my youth? Only my body. Well, I’m working on that. No, I’m no longer trying to reverse time because I realize what an ambitious not to mention foolhardy project that was.
Now, the goal is simply to stay strong, stop premature ageing and stay healthy. These are more realistic goals. After all, I always say, I don’t mind being called a senior citizen—so long as I’m already one. But not today. That’s still five years away.
What’s great about turning 55? Aside from being only five years away from senior citizen privileges?
It’s knowing that life is rarely black or white—that it’s mostly a million shades of grey. It’s knowing that the more you know, the more you don’t know and that not knowing everything is okay because the quest to know more is what makes life interesting every day.
It’s knowing that our lives don’t have to be picture-perfect 24/7 for us to be able to enjoy perfect moments. It’s knowing that we don’t have to be perfect to be perfect for each other. Hate happens but love prevails.
This year, I will turn 55. If my mother were alive, she would have been peeved that I’m waving my age around like a badge of honor. Well, I may not have been wounded in war but having survived life’s battles, I believe I deserve my own purple heart.
You do too. So go and claim it with pride.