A Pirate Looks at Forty

I thought I would hate getting old.

My mother certainly did. She resisted aging with every fiber of her being. Face creams, anti-wrinkle serums, exercise programs, fad diets, plastic surgery, fashion choices — she was determined to stay thirty-five forever. As such, I grew up thinking that aging was something to fear, avoid, resist, and fight, and I had assumed I would wage a similar war against my own accumulation of years.

Except… my thirties were the happiest years of my life. I celebrated the Big 4-0 with a tremendous amount of gratitude and love. And now, at 42, I’m letting my hair go gray because I think the silver looks cool, I’m making jokes about buying my “midlife crisis car,” and I’m welcoming my first hot flash with the same transitional reverence as I did my first period.

The truth is… I’m not afraid of growing old. In fact… I’m enjoying it.

Don’t get me wrong — there are some things about getting older that just suck. My metabolism isn’t what it used to be, so I’ve put on a lot of weight. (And, let’s face it — the global pandemic didn’t help that, either.) I don’t feel as strong, fit, or flexible as I used to feel. My overall energy levels are much lower than they used to be. I don’t have as much patience as I did when I was younger. My carpal tunnel is getting worse, and I lose feeling in my right hand all of the time now. I know I’m not as “traditionally” physically attractive as I used to be (though honestly this probably has to do more with society’s obsession with youth than any objective truth.) It’s not as easy to learn new things, and my mind isn’t as sharp as it once was. I have to get mammograms now. And the entire world seems SO MUCH YOUNGER than me.

But even with all of that — I’m enjoying getting older. I’ve become braver, more courageous, and more authentic. I am more sure of myself, able to make decisions, and confident in my abilities. I have no more f*cks to give, so I am much more likely to take risks. I have worked hard for a level of stability and comfort that I am able to fully enjoy. I approach the world — and myself — with a lot less judgement and a lot more grace.

Additionally — I think I always feared that, once I reached a certain age, I’d stop growing and changing. However, nothing could be further from the truth for me. The past couple of years have been some of the most dynamic and metamorphic of my life. Writing, publishing, selling my work, performing, exploring, learning burlesque and drag, reflecting on gender and identity, strengthening my parenting skills, teaching myself to homeschool — there is absolutely nothing stagnant in my life. To paraphrase a line in my favorite film Wings of Desire, “I have a story, and I will continue to have one.” There is still so much to learn and do. I have not yet begun to live.

So, come at me, forties. I ain’t scared. Give me another year, and let me find another thousand ways to grow and change and evolve. It’s going to be a fantastic decade.