Summary

Mary Chang, a Chinese-American Gen-X writer, humorously confronts the milestone of turning 50 by embracing youthful activities, defying age stereotypes, and reflecting on the fabulous and fucked aspects of reaching this age, all while navigating the challenges of the pandemic.

Abstract

Mary Chang, an award-winning writer, approaches her 50th birthday with a mix of humor and defiance. She engages in activities typically associated with younger generations, such as playing Pokémon Go, trick-or-treating, and challenging kids to playground games. Chang uses her youthful appearance, attributed to her Asian heritage, as a license to act immaturely and rebel against societal expectations of middle age. She documents her journey towards fitness and health, motivated by the desire to look and feel young, while also acknowledging the absurdity and difficulties of maintaining a youthful image at 50. Chang's narrative is interwoven with the realities of the pandemic, her love for dim sum, and the cultural expectations of modesty. Her story is a testament to the Gen-X spirit of individuality and resilience, as she looks forward to embracing her age with grace and a touch of irreverence.

Opinions

Chang views turning 50 as an opportunity to reclaim her youth through various activities, despite the societal pressures associated with middle age.
She believes that looking half her age due to her Chinese heritage allows her to pursue activities like breakdancing or rapping without feeling out of place.
Chang sees exercise as a means to both feel better and achieve a specific aesthetic goal, though she acknowledges the challenge and occasional hypocrisy in her fitness journey.
She admits to indulging in junk food and fasting, reflecting a complex relationship with food and body image.
Chang reflects on the cultural significance of food, particularly dim sum, and its connection to her childhood and identity.
She expresses a desire to defy the physical signs of aging, aiming to maintain a youthful appearance and energy.
Chang's approach to aging is marked by a balance of acceptance and resistance, as she plans to continue living life on her own terms, regardless of societal expectations or the limitations imposed by a global pandemic.

Humor, Satire, Middle Age

I’m 50 — fabulous or f*cked?

Giving the finger to middle age

I’m defying 50 by telling it to fuck off

Through denial, exercise, rebellion, and by acting immature. I can get away with this since most Asians look “half their age.” I’m Chinese, petite, feisty, and have a 10-year-old son I can hide behind and blame for my misbehavior.

We ride our scooters through the neighborhood, play Pokémon Go, and went trick-or-treating together. I dressed up as a fierce tiger with my matching face mask, held out my bag, said: “dude,” fist-pumped, did the “floss,” and roared for my trick, twice.

I challenge 12-year old kids to “chicken fights” on the monkey bars since we’re roughly the same size, but because they weren’t born before 1980, I had to explain how to chicken fight. When the biggest boy accused “adults aren’t allowed on monkey bars!” after he lost for the third time, I denied it, insisted I was his age, and told him to stop being a pussy.

I ride the Zipline at the playground. If there’s a screaming toddler with her frazzled mom in the line-up behind me, I tell the little girl, “It’s my turn. You can’t go ahead of me. I don’t care how much you cry or how darn cute you are. You need to Wait-For-Your-Turn.” Then I wink at her mom.

My son is never with me when I’m doing these rebellious things.

He stopped hanging out with me after Halloween. To make up for his “embarrassing mom,” I boast to his friends at school drop-off that I play Minecraft and Fortnite (but I only know how to play Pacman and Tetris).

I nod eagerly whenever I overhear Millenials and Gen Z kids using new slang words so I can learn them, and then I mimic their behavior behind their backs.

If I get caught, I give them the finger.

Fab & fucked up things about 50 from my slanted point of view:

Fab: Since Chinese people look half their age, I won’t look stupid learning to breakdance, bungee jump, or rap because today I’ve decided to reclaim my youth by acting half my age so I can try these things.

Fucked: Jumping off a bridge with a rubber band strapped around your ankle is stupid at any age, especially when you dress up as Wonder Woman, your childhood superhero, and chicken out at the last minute.

Fab: The thought of turning 49 launched my ass off the couch to start a personal fitness journey towards living a healthier, mindful life by age 50. It’s about how you feel — not how you look.

Fucked: Exercise is fucking hard. You need to it every day if you want to look hot for 50. It’s not about how you feel. My goal is to look good. By my own Chinese stereotype standards, I must look 25.

And hot.

Fab: Exercise works. Especially if you post your progress on Facebook and make yourself “accountable” to others, even if they don’t give a crap about your 25 daily push-ups, stupid headstands, or 69 consecutive cartwheels.

Fucked: I need followers to read about my 69 consecutive cartwheels because I don’t know if I can do them next year, and it’s my Covid brag— to make up for fucked up 2020. But the Chinese are modest people. It’s impolite to brag. This isn’t a brag, merely a fact.

Fab: It took me 23 months of dedicated exercise, water drinking, and “skipping dim sum” to lose 19 pounds and stay fit.

Fucked: I’m starving, but skinny. In between Facebook posts, I listen to “Purple Rain” on my Sony walkman, bawl my eyes out, and binge on Skittles, Mars bars, and Doritos to experience high school flashbacks.

Fab: I’m 50. Gen-Xers do whatever they want.

Fucked: After a binge, I fast all day and night because I’m revolted by junk food.

Then go for dim sum.

Fab: I can start checking off my “50” bucket list. Take that fancy Chinese culinary course.

Fucked: I still can’t cook authentic Chinese food because I’m emotionally scarred from my mother scolding me, slapping my hand away, or pinching my ear whenever I bothered her in the kitchen or tried to taste anything before it was placed on the supper table.

That’s why I’m obsessed with dim sum. I point out what I want to order from the trolley; it’s dropped under my face, I gobble it down with chopsticks, and nobody slaps me.

Fab: I only wrinkle when I squint, stand 5 feet tall, and rock in my black camouflage leggings, matching sports bra, my brand new sparkly pink “Fab & 50” baseball cap, and big heart-shaped sunglasses.

Hot.

Fucked: When I turn 70, I’ll be strolling through the neighborhood wearing a soya sauce stained mismatching velour tracksuit and Terminator solar shields, while I’m picking my front teeth with a toothpick after blowing my nose — several times — into a 100% cotton handkerchief passed down from my grandmother.

But I’ll nod, smile, wink at the next stranger I see, and think, “I’m hot.”

Fab: I’m living in the middle of a pandemic, in the fittest shape of my life, at age 50. Never too late to better your health…blah blah blah

Fucked: Who cares if I’m fit and fabulous? I can’t fucking go anywhere.

Fab: If I can’t go anywhere to be seen, I can put on some Covid weight and do dim sum — daily.

Fucked: When I’m 100, (Chinese people live a long time!) I’ll be toothless, shrunken down to a hunchbacked 4 feet 2, diabetic from daily dim sum, walking with a wobbly cane, and proudly wearing my sparkly pink “Fab & 50” baseball cap because I’m suffering from dementia, and I’ll truly believe that I am— half my age.

And hot.

“Defying 50! GenX-style.” Photo of the author, courtesy of Natalie J. McMillan.

About the Author: Mary Chang is an award-winning short story fiction writer, published memoir article writer, blogger, and Medium newbie writer striving to become a better human, parent & writer. Her stories are inspired by exercise, humor & people. Fueled by cartwheels, laughter, the F-word, and defying middle-age. Read her blog at www.marychangstorywriter.com.

MARY CHANG

Story Writer

marychangstorywriter.com