From Middle Age To Vint Age

 

When I was middle aged I felt, well, middle aged. I was hormonal, my weight fluctuated daily, my temperature fluctuated by the second. I had a wad of belly fat around my middle, I felt lethargic and lacking energy. It seemed like overnight I had lost my sparkle.

 

My hair, once thick and bouncy, became lacklustre and thinning, my skin changed from a reasonably dewy glow to dry and wrinkled. When I had hot flushes my face turned bright red, as though I had been sunburnt. I thought, if I am like this now I don’t ever want to be old. 

 

Being Fifty

 

If I am honest I had found middle age a bit scary. I had lost my youth, and along with that some of my confidence. I felt less and less attractive and really didn’t like the fatigue and utter exhaustion, that made me want to sleep, at a time when sleep didn’t want me. 

 

I would lay awake for hours sweating, procrastinating, wondering what life was all about and how it was all going to be down hill from now on. My fifties seemed to drag on forever, and with my looming sixtieth birthday I could feel a deep sense of dread.

Hitting Sixty

And then a funny thing happened. I hit sixty. I waited for the terrible downhill which was obviously coming my way… 

 

Only it didn’t. 

 

My weight slipped back to normal, my spare tyre seemed to deflate. My hair began to shine again and though I would never have the smooth complexion of my younger years, it did regain some of its previous soft plumpness. 

 

But best of all, my temperature miraculously went back to normal:). No more night sweats! I can’t pretend I had the body of a thirty year old, but I was very happy with the body I had of a sixty year old, it was so much better than I had expected.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        So I bought an abandoned, unloved house in France and set about making it beautiful again. It was like therapy for me. Day after day I would take up floors, repair ceilings, load mountains of rubbish into my car, tile the bathroom/kitchen, sand the wooden beams, paint, varnish, scrub. I was so energised!

 

Watching this sad, old dilapidated building come to life was like watching myself unfold. I became stronger, braver, more confident than I had been for years. Every time I drove up in front of my lovely house, with it’s china blue shutters and window boxes filled with bright red geraniums, it put a huge smile on my face :)

 I started to think about what I really wanted in life and began making plans for it to happen. I had spent so long trying to be what other people wanted I had lost myself. Now it was time for me.

After the house was finished I became a full time traveller, going all over the world on my own, having more fun than I could ever have imagined. I crossed the Atlantic ocean, swam with turtles, danced in the rain in The Rain Forest, sailed on a schooner, and met more people in two years than I had in two decades. I watched the sunset in the evening,  stayed up talking until daylight, basking in the golden glow of the sun rise the following morning. I danced and limboed to steel bands, laughed until my cheeks hurt, and slept under the stars.

 

Not bad for an old lady:)

Vintage Model

 

I guess I felt like I had gone from being a tatty runaround with a bit of rust around the edges to, maybe not quite a Ferrari, but at least a little vintage model that was starting to purr again :) It felt wonderful, mostly because it was the last thing I had expected.

 

Life is exciting, it just keeps getting better and better and instead of dreading a change of my next decade, I will embrace it and see what challenges, and what wonderful surprises, it has in store for me! Lily x

This article was written by me and first published on Sixty and Me