Shine on

Yesterday I celebrated my 50th birthday. Yes, fifty, as in eligible-for-AARP-membership-and-by-the-way-schedule-a-colonoscopy fifty. I have said it out loud now so there is no more denying that I am fifty years of age.

It was a difficult day. The official birthday celebration was on Sunday, complete with presents, steaks on the grill, and a fabulous cake baked by James, so yesterday was just an ordinary day of errands, laundry and cooking compounded by wet, dreary weather. I moped.

I have been coy about my age for years, even downright lying about it and so much so that I often forgot my real age. Why? I started hedging about my age when I realized many people reacted negatively to my age or anyone who was older than they. It made me feel uncomfortable and even embarrassed to have a younger person - even someone only a few years younger - make a rude or humorous [in their mind] comment about my age. I have even had people act rather superior that they were born after me. WTH?

Note: I also think that telling your age for no real reason is like telling someone your income or what you paid for your house, car or whatever; it's in bad taste and generally none of anyone's business.

As I worked through my conflicted feelings and got my head on straight, I opened a birthday card from my cousin Jill. It reads: "You've got a rhythm all your own that sets you above the rest. So get out there, birthday girl, and show the world how you shine." Thank you, Jill, for the gentle swift kick in the tookus that I needed.

Well, kittens, the shine is on and the gloves are coming off. I am fifty, damn it, and that is just fine with me. I don't look good for fifty, I look good. Things may not look exactly the same as when I was younger and may be in a slightly different place, and yes, I need to lose some pounds but overall, I am looking good and feeling fine. And if you want to make an age joke at my expense, you go right ahead...it will only make you look foolish.

Now that I am done with the pity party, I realized that because I do not deal well with uncertainty, much of my discomfort about turning fifty is that I do not know how to be fifty. I don't know if anyone ever really knows how to be the age that they are but I am fortunate to have a great group of role models: the ladies of my mystery readers book discussion group. With one exception, I am the youngest member of the group by at least 10-15 years and it never matters a bit. These women are among  the most interesting, funny and well read people I have ever met, "and the ladies of the club" (bonus points if you've read the book) show me every day how to be fabulous at any age.

So although I still believe deep down that it is bad manners and it certainly really isn't any of your business, I am fifty years of age. Get over it; I did.