What it Feels Like to Be 43.

Worn in, but not worn out.

Take a moment, if you will, and think about your favorite pair of shoes. Mine is a pair of takkies (that’s what we South Africans call “sneakers”). My favorite pair is definitely not brand new. New shoes are too tight and tend to rub a bit. My favorite pair of takkies are worn in, comfortable, and have molded to the shape of my feet. But they are not worn out either: their in-sole is still decent, they look decent, and they have a lot of treads left on them.

That’s what being 43 feels like to me. Worn in, but not yet worn out.

I feel slap-bang in the middle of being young and old. At the halfway mark. Comfortable in my own skin, even if that skin is a little crepe-y now.

When I was younger, I used to think anyone in their 40’s was so old.

Well, I’m here now and it doesn’t feel as old as I’d imagined. I feel young inside yet also wiser. It’s a paradox. It’s not quite how I thought it would be.

Physically, I can see things falling apart now. Up until 40, I still looked young. But from 40 onwards, the aging process accelerated. And all the exercise, healthy eating, and anti-wrinkle creams in the world can’t change that. Skin will sag, flesh will soften, hair will go grey (ahem, yip, even that hair…eeuw gross I know) and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. (Well, except dye the hair on my head.) Even my freaking knees are wrinkly when I stand up straight, for goodness sake! I never ever thought I’d have knee wrinkles!

So yes, there is the inevitable physical decline. That part sucks far more for a woman because of all the societal pressures and judgments. But at the same time, it’s freeing. There is a freedom that I am just beginning to catch a glimpse of, with the fading of looks. It’s a certain type of anonymity. No more being in the constant male gaze.

I feel truly freer to just be myself. When I was young, I used to think I was “being myself” (tattoo, piercings, Doc Martens, purple hair, ha ha — look world I’m expressing my true self) but the problem with youth is that you just don’t know who you are. You can’t. There has to be a process of experimentation, trying things out, getting to know yourself, and that takes time. Like a well-worn pair of pajamas that get softer with each wash, I settle into myself more with each life experience.

At 43 I have been through both death and divorce and I have given birth. Major life experiences that most people simply don’t have at 20.

In my 20’s, I was full of questions. How will I handle x, y, z? What will I become? Now I have some answers. I definitely don’t know it all, though, and the more I learn and know, the more I see that there is so much to learn and know, but at least now I can say I have gathered some wisdom. It’s pretty cool. I finally have stuff to write about, which I certainly didn’t have at 20.

Things that have surprised me about being older:

• I am way more irritable and grumpy. Or my tolerance for BS is just gone down.
• I hate wearing denim jeans now. I still wear them, but I hate it. They are so freaking uncomfortable. Why do we torture ourselves?
• I still enjoy exercising. I still care about how I look. (I had assumed that I’d stop caring about this stuff when I was older.)

One thing that being alive for this long has taught me is that everything comes with a price. Meaning, you might get the thing you wished for, but it always comes with it’s con. Here’s an example. I always wanted to be an artist, and do that for a living. Now I get paid to paint watercolors, and it’s sucked the joy out of what I once loved doing. The minute you do something for work, it loses some of that magic. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather do what I do for a living than anything else, but having to paint, instead of doing it for fun, took the shine off my dream. Another example: you dream about owning a home. What you realize only once you have one, is that you now need upkeep and maintain that property. Plus taxes and levies.

Life lesson: be careful what I wish for. The beauty of that lesson is that it has tempered a lot of my cravings. When I was younger I wanted so many things and experiences. Now that I’ve had so many of them, I have seen first hand that every up comes with a down. Travel to exotic locations comes with the irritation of airports, and long, mind-numbing, body-cramping flights. Being a parent is the most rewarding thing, but also the most exhausting and frustrating. When I was young, I had no clue about all of this.

I am happy that I now have a clue. It’s helping me to chill the fuck out. To see that I am okay, exactly where I am, and how I am. Yes, I still have desires, but I am not dogged about them, because I know that everything comes with a trade off. So I may as well enjoy where I am, right here, right now, right?

I heard J-Lo talk about being 50 and how awesome it is, and I thought, “Yes!” If my forties feel so landed and comfortable, I can only imagine that it gets better with more years on this planet.

I used to be afraid of aging because I was only looking at it from the outside — and sure, when you’re young, it doesn’t look good. But it feels different to how I assumed it would. It feels calmer, spiritually speaking, even if, physically, things are a little creakier.

I used to feel terrified at the prospect of getting older. Now that I’m here, it’s really okay.

Acceptance. That’s what it feels like.