The mere suggestion of aging conjures an image of mournful souls traveling toward a dark and hopeless destination. An entire industry sprung from the angst the mention of this word brings to mind. Anti-aging shills hawk everything from creams, surgery, supplements and hormone therapy clinics in a feeble attempt to cash in on the fear of the unknown.
There is a big secret about aging. Aging is a gift. It is a time to celebrate beginnings; the opportunity to reinvent and create.
Aging is like being in kindergarten when you were free to push boundaries without the restrictions of political correctness. This time around kindergarten re-emerges with the same sense of entitlement, but balanced with a sense of social conscience.
Your “give-a-damn” left the building. It is cathartic to let relationships that no longer work drift away. More time to spend with those that do. Conversely, acknowledging that you are not on the top ten of someone’s relationship list is not cause for a major depression. Being comfortable in your own skin and true to yourself becomes more important than being included. Other people’s opinions about you become insignificant to the extent they don’t even rate a small blip on your radar.
No longer having to fit in with corporate culture is like walking away from a bad car crash. Being a team player was boring, taxing and self limiting. Indulging your heightened sense of curiosity and cultural standards is liberating. You no longer feel a slight pang of remorse at saying “no” to people, events and situations you do not want to accommodate. The obligation to advance lengthy explanations no longer exists.
Less is more; external beauty redefines itself as strength of character and wisdom. Your dress for success wardrobe can be anything you want it to be.
The next time you see the term “anti-aging”, laugh because you know a secret.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
JoAnn Williams
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.
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