We’re supposed to hate aging. And I get it — in so many ways, it sucks. I’m pushing 40, and it’s incredibly annoying to deal with lower back pain every single day. My knees creak sometimes. I have to dye my roots to cover up the greys. And don’t even get me started on how sick and tired I am of feeling tired. It’s exhausting… literally!
But you know what? As an elder millennial, I would never go back to my 20s. You couldn’t pay me enough to relive my younger years. Sure, it would be nice to have an awesome metabolism again. I’d love for my boobs to point more towards the sky than the floor. I would love the lack of responsibilities. But God, does anyone remember anything beyond that when reminiscing on youth? It sucked!
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Being in your 20s is like an orgy of anxiety, fear, and self-doubt. I spent so much time worrying about everything. I worried about my future. I worried about my friends. I worried about my looks and my clothes and… well, my whole life. I was so insecure. I cared so much about what everyone thought of me, all the time. I would never go back to that. My life is certainly not perfect now, but there’s something about being middle-aged that suddenly makes you not give a crap. Someone doesn’t like me? That’s their prerogative; I’m not going to lose sleep over it. People say my sense of style is stupid (looking at you, Gen Z)? Ha. You worry about it, because I don’t care. Things aren’t working out the way I want them to? I know enough now that, even if things don’t work out exactly how I envisioned they would, it’ll be OK. There are still things I’m self-conscious about, and of course I still have insecurities… but there’s nowhere near the number of doubts and fears and insecurity that I dealt with in my 20s.
I know I’m not alone; the internet is full of articles from women celebrating how much more self-assured and confident they are in their 30s and 40s. So why do we dread aging so much?
Let’s be real: our society doesn’t like older women. From fashion trends to skincare to beauty, the priority is youth. Wrinkles are something to be avoided at all costs. Stretch marks and a saggy tummy? It doesn’t matter if you’re 44 and a mom; dad bods are acceptable, but mom bods certainly are not. A man who gets grey hair and wrinkles is applauded and lusted after as a silver fox; a woman who gets grey hair and wrinkles has let herself go. Women are held to an impossible standard, and we’re supposed to have the appearance, sexuality, and vigor of a girl in her 20s no matter how old we are. It’s no wonder we go crazy with things like Botox and face lifts when the culture we lives in tells us constantly that the natural aging process is something gross and unattractive.
I may still choose to dye my hair, or I may decide to embrace my natural grey. I may get Botox one day, or I may just let it go. But no matter how old I may get, I know that every chance I get to age another day is a blessing. The alternative, after all, is so much worse. And though my younger, sexier self was great in my 20s, I love my older, wiser almost-40 self now. And I’d never, ever go back.
