The Fucks I Do Not Give

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Photo by Fernanda Marin on Unsplash

I’ve read several pieces this week about getting older. The Universe speaks to me via the internet all the time. This week’s theme was apparently women out there think surviving to my age means their life is over…or some such shit.

Poor Lambs.

I commented on a couple posts, but I just kept saying the same stuff over and over — until I finally got the message — OH I’m supposed to put this all in one place — on MY space. DUH.

So here goes.

Age is really just a number. So pick one. I keep forgetting mine — and when I do remember and tell people how old I am no one really believes me — so it really doesn’t fucking matter anyway. If you want to be 35 forever — go for it. I have 37 and 35 year old daughters. Everyone thinks we’re sisters. They think it’s great... NOW…because they are looking at the genes they’ve inherited with relish. When they were 17 and 15 — they were less amused.

How did I manage to get there? I did a couple things by accident and a couple of things on purpose and they worked out.

#1. I liked water. And I drank gallons of it all my life. I moisturized my skin from the insides. Which also made my kidneys happy — which also cleared out other toxins — blah blah blah….because water is life.

#2. I have severe allergies and any kind of make up made my eyes water and my skin itch. I have NEVER worn any make up on a regular. In the last ten years, I’ve worn it twice. To my daughters’ weddings because of the photographers. There is photographic evidence of it for all perpetuity. Because making happy memories is a blessing.

#3. I am a ghostly white Scottish person who did NOT inherit a single gene from her Italian mother. So I kept my ass out of the sun. I wear SPF 100, a sunhat or a baseball cap, wrap a beach tent around me or hang out in the shade. ALWAYS. And I see a dermatologist twice a year. Because the sun will make you look like bad leather.

#4. I smile and I laugh. All the damn time. Because life is really funny.

#5. When I didn’t like my life I changed it. I’ve changed it so many times, I’ve lost track. Because life is not stagnant.

#6. I went into therapy for a very long time to let go of all my shit and learn to live in the Now enjoying every day I have left on this planet. I developed a yoga and meditation practice. I am grateful to be any age. I would never hit replay on my life for love nor money. Because life is an adventure, a really great adventure.

#7. I made friends with the vessel that is my body. The scars, the 10# of extra weight that comes and goes when I’m sick and saves my life and keeps me out of the hospital, the sagging boobs, the broken nose, the stretch marks, the bum knee, the asthma, the wrinkles… All. The. Things. My body — She’s awesome. I love her so much. She has carried me through some truly horrible things. One day we will part company, but until that day comes, I am so incredibly thankful for the gift she is to me. Because life is about learning to be kind and love people and we need to start with ourselves.

#8. I celebrate my life. Because I am fucking still alive … even at 58. After my 50th birthday, I got divorced. I got tattoos. I got a motorcycle license AND a motorcycle (actually two motorcycles). I dyed my brown hair purple — and let the gray stay gray. I became a grandmother. I traveled halfway round the world (twice). Because you should do the things you love.

#9. I still have sex. I know — shocking at my advanced age and all. But it’s true children. People in their 50s can be ‘hot’. Guys I date are always younger than me. You can say the word Cougar out loud if you must — just remember cougars have teeth, claws, and bad attitudes, so you might want to whisper it. Because here’s the truth — I’m fun. And confident. And smart. And a smartass. And that vibe will take you places good clothes, a perfect body, and expensive eyeliner never will. Old chicks like me know that. Because you are NEVER too old for an orgasm.

#10. I have a Tribe. I have a deep and caring support network. I have people. Loads of people out there to catch me and care for me if I am sick or I screw up or I need a shoulder to cry on. I am not alone in this world. I don’t need to settle, or change, or bend myself into any kind of pretzel for anyone. The people in my life who are there know me, Real Ann. I have friendships that are over 45 years long. It doesn’t matter what I look like on the outside — these people love me for who I am — really am — on the inside. I am seen by the people who matter. Because we all need each other.

So in closing — it’s easier to not care about a number, or if men notice me, or if I have more wrinkles or gray hair. All of those things — are fucks I do not give. And not to tell you what to do — but really — neither should you.


Self discovery in progress, stay tuned

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