I turned fifty last week. It seems I should be worried. People keep assuring me, 'It will be fine, it isnt as bad as you think' even though I havent expressed any concerns. The truth is I am really not bothered at all! It is just another year, I am not noticeably older than I was last week and life (dare i say it?) is great just now. After all I lost the best of my looks a few years back and I have become accustomed to the extra warmth around my hips so no worries on that score. And as for wrinkles, well, they are trophies of a life well spent and if more women believed that, the happier they would be.
I am looking forward to being taken seriously as a person and an author, to writing more books and having the freedom from family responsibility to enjoy myself. It is nice that men look at my face when they speak to me these days instead of staring at my breasts; I look forward to more of that. I am looking forward to more grandchildren, to being a cantankerous old woman and making those outrageously rude comments that only old women seem to get away with. I am looking forward to my old fella in his rocking chair on the other side of the fireplace, seeing our teeth smile at eachother from the glass on the bathroom shelf each night. Most of all I am looking forward to falling asleep in his arms for another forty years or so.
