by Lucky Lucy | Nov 27, 2013 | Forty, guest post, Life, Marriage, Self esteem, Women |
Karate Kate is fighting off middle age.
Guest post by Kate G.
The mid-life crisis has come of age.
The paunchy, balding bloke in a red convertible is a thing of the past. In its place is a far more wholesome pursuit to recapture youth and vibrancy.
I’ve labelled it Competitive Middle Ageing.
So what is it?
Competitive Middle Ageing involves preparing a list of goals to achieve before you hit 40.
You know, running a marathon, volunteering in a remote African village, climbing K2, walking Kokoda twice blindfolded while in a potato sack… that kind of thing.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not against people setting goals and achieving them. I think the whole “age is no barrier thing” is highly commendable.
Trouble is, as a mere 38-year-old woman, I’m exhausted just getting through the average week of family life. Juggling the demands of a job, a husband, pets, two preteen daughters and mind-bogglingly complex super statements has me all tuckered out.
Even more sadly, as my long suffering husband will attest, we’re flat out scheduling half an hour for sex, let alone a 50km ride before breakfast.
So, while I’ve watched on as friends have aced their first marathon, taken up fencing, and knocked off a personal best at their latest triathlon, I’ve been doing my best to keep my head down and my wardrobe free of lycra.
You never know, I might just warm to this Competitive Middle Ageing thing in time for my fiftieth.
In the meantime, don’t feel offended if I haven’t “liked” your latest dragon boat win on Facebook. I’m no tall poppy slasher – just someone hoping I won’t be invited to participate in your next event.
Kate G is a harassed 38-year-old mother, wife and communications officer who is hoping to catch a nanna nap sometime soon.
by Lucky Lucy | Jun 2, 2013 | Forty, Life, Travelling |
When I was a teenager I always pictured two ‘cool ages’ in my future. One was 24 and the other was 27. The selection of these ages appears to have been arbitrary (although I did have a very cool teacher in grade five who was 27, so perhaps she was my inspiration).
My 24 self would be cool, confident, glamorous and out there doing her ‘thing’. My teenage brain had no details about where the ‘where’ would be or what my ‘thing’ would entail.
By 27 I would be even cooler (obviously), have travelled extensively, might have got myself a serious boyfriend and would be holding down an incredibly successful, high-level executive career. I wasn’t specific about the profession.
Unfortunately, my teenage-self wasn’t quite on the money. By 24 I definitely wasn’t cool or overly confident (although I was damn good at pretending). As for glamorous, well, I wasn’t quite that either (an aunt once said my white cardigan looked like something a nurse would wear…this was probably a good illustration of my lack of fashion prowess).
I was however, married. This was never part of my teenage plan and many old high-school friends were definitely surprised I’d settled down so quickly.
By 27 I had finally worked out which profession I wanted to work in and had taken my first steps on the public relations ladder. I was still married.
I had been overseas but three weeks on a Contiki tour probably doesn’t count as extensive travel.
I was definitely not cool or high-flying. In fact, I’d decided it was far more important to be taken seriously than anything else. This meant sensible hair, sensible shoes and rather serious suits were the order of the day.
So I guess my teenage self didn’t quite get it right. She had stars in her eyes and possibly a truckload of naiveté and hope guiding her future plans.
She might be a little comforted though with the knowledge that post-27 I did work in some high-level jobs and I have travelled a lot. I’m also confident (usually) and she might even think I’ve occasionally met the cool and glamorous standards she set in her mind.
I doubt she ever considered what she would be doing at 40. That age would have seemed incredibly ancient and wrinkly to her.
But I don’t think I’m that old and I’m definitely not wrinkly yet. And I still think there a few more unexpected and unplanned adventures in my future.
So I guess this 40 year old, with stars in her eyes and a small wheelbarrow of naiveté and hope will have to make her own plans for the next 10 years.
by Lucky Lucy | Oct 23, 2012 | birthdays, Forty, Men, sex, Single, Travelling |
I turned 40 last week.
I didn’t look forward to the birthday. I even considered hiding under my bed with chocolate and wine until it was all over.
But, that didn’t happen. Instead I celebrated by eating chocolate with my Mum, teaching my students and then finally enjoying some cocktails and dinner with a good friend.
So it felt like turning the big four-oh was actually not so bad after all.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling so great the next day. But it wasn’t a hangover that was dragging me down. I guess you could say it was the post-birthday blues.
But just as my ‘pity-party for one’ threatened to consume me, I decided to reflect on all the things I’ve learned, achieved and enjoyed in my thirties.
Here are the top 10.
1. It’s always better to be alone than with the wrong person.
2. Buying and renovating a house on your own is a liberating experience. And watching a bulldozer tear up concrete can generate a bubble of excitement that lasts all day.
3. Being single should never, ever stop you getting on a plane and seeing the world. If I’d waited for a partner I would never have looked into the eyes of an old elephant in Thailand and felt its quiet but overwhelming wisdom. Sometimes magic can only happen when you are making a solo journey.
4. Being single can be really great…or really suck. It’s all about perspective.
5. New and beautiful friends will sweep unexpectedly into your life when you need them while older friends will sometimes drift away quietly or depart in a huff. Real friends will also love all your quirks and flaws…even when you’re acting like a crazy person.
6. It’s easier to put on weight than lose it in your thirties. But feeling guilty about what you put in your mouth is pointless. And remember, most men prefer women with curves not jutting ribcages and pointy elbows.
7. It’s impossible to feel bad when you’re wearing fabulous shoes. And when you add great hair, you’re unstoppable.
8. A pussycat gently placing its paw on your knee will always make you feel better when you’re sobbing over a broken heart. Pets don’t judge and always understand you.
9. Every man who has loved me, left me or made me horny has taught me a lesson about life. Sometimes I haven’t enjoyed learning those lessons…sometimes I’ve enjoyed them too much.
10. Don’t ever regret your past decisions or wish you had lived a different life. Your past has made you who you are. And your future is the next frontier.
by Lucky Lucy | Jul 17, 2012 | birthdays, children, Dating, Forty, Men, Online dating, Single |
Last week, while looking at some recent holiday photos, I had an awful moment. I looked at myself and thought, ‘Oh my God, I look middle-aged’.
Yes, I know I was in the tropics and no one looks great when they’re permanently dehydrated, in a foreign country and travelling in heat measured in the high thirties with 100 percent humidity. I get that. But still, when I looked at myself I thought, F**K, how the hell did that happen?
And today I’ve looked at the date and realised that in exactly three months I will turn 40. Yes, 40. It’s happened.
The approach of major birthdays often makes us stop and think about our lives. We ask ourselves, ‘What have I achieved,’ and ‘Am I on the right path?’
As for the actual birthday, many of us drink ourselves into a stupor, spend the day in bed with the blankets over our heads or just pretend it isn’t happening. We just want it over so we can get on with things.
I still can’t remember my 30th birthday. I’m told I had a party with friends but, even though I didn’t drink a lot, I cannot remember a single thing from that day or night. My brain has quite simply wiped it from my memory.
My life was very different at 30. I was married to a man everyone loved, working in a full-time job (with great security and benefits) and we owned a nice house in various stages of renovation.
I had the life many of my friends desperately wanted. But I was unhappy.
Now, almost a decade later, my life is completely different.
It’s been a decade of firsts for me. My first (and hopefully last) divorce, my first solo overseas trip (followed by several more), my first solo property purchase (and accompanying mortgage), my first one-night stand, my first time staying out all night (yes, I’m definitely a late bloomer), my first redundancy, and the list goes on.
It’s been eventful.
And now I am three months away from 40 and wondering if I should have done more by now. Shouldn’t I be clawing my way up the career ladder instead of taking an indulgent year off to scribble my thoughts in the hope that others may eventually pay to read my words?
Shouldn’t I be on every dating site in Australia desperately trying to partner up for life (or at least for the next six months to get me over the 40 hump)?
And then there’s the question of children. I haven’t had any of them yet. Will I ever? And more importantly, do I want to? I still don’t know the answer to the children questions…but shouldn’t I have figured that out by my age?
And while these questions scurry around in my head, like mice looking for an exit, forty still approaches. I am inexorably drawn forward to that date by time…it cannot be avoided.
I’ve decided I won’t attempt to answer the questions for a while. I’m putting them back into a box called, Questions for another day. You might call this approach denial; I’m calling it mental survival.
I’m just going to trust, for now, that time and circumstance will answer all questions.
I will continue to enjoy my gap year and the space it gives me to think my own thoughts and write them down.
I will trust that the perfect man for me will appear in my life when the time is right.
And the questions about children will just have to resolve themselves.
As for being middle-aged, I’m going to pretend that I’m not, just for a little while longer.
The 13 year-old daughter of a close friend says she wants to hang out with me because, ‘You look 29 and you are awesome’. Holding onto that comment should help me stave off middle-age for another week or month or year.
The future, and forty, can take care of itself.
