Appropriate that the Italian "word of the day" emailed to me on my 50th birthday was "tuffo" which means "dive."

 

So I dove right in. Really, what choice was there? The birthday would come whether I shed a positive or negative attitude on the BIG-FIVE-O. After all, it is merely two numbers standing next to each other. It is the connotations we attach to age that can make it feel quite different.  

 

I can refer to myself as "young" (which I am) or I can call myself "old" (which I do not feel) like many others uttering the word lately. I keep hearing "We're getting old!" as friends bid bye-bye to their 40s - and even others who are approaching it. (Heck, I said I was getting old when I was turning 30. I remember an elderly lady standing next to me in Macy's responded at the time, "30? Oh, big deal!")

 

To me, 101 is old - which makes 50 young. A ton of people in this world would like to be 50 again. Our perspective holds the age-old attitude key. And big deal if we are accumulating years? That's a good thing, right? It's a no-brainer. We are either here as in ALIVE (in which case it is necessary to turn older) ... or we are not here and not getting older, as in DEAD. And most of us don't wish for death quite yet. (Death of wrinkles and stomach rolls maybe.)

 

Realistically, do we actually yearn for the younger, stupider versions of ourselves? Yes our bods were firmer and our boobs higher. And okay, that flap under our triceps wiggles more now when we wave hello, and the inner-tubes around our waists weren't there before and we didn't know what muffin tops were except a sweet to eat. The skin on our faces was wrinkle-free and smooth at ages 5, 15, and 25 ... but that's all external stuff. Minor details. 

 

Internally, back then, our brains had some immature wrinkles. We did idiotic stuff, made rash decisions, allowed "drama" to lead. I, for one, lived without confidence. I let people shape my thoughts; I didn't know my own head. I was immature and had MUCH to learn, and yes, was even walked all over, and placed in awkward situations because I didn't have enough nerve to say 'NO' - which today the 50-year-old me would never allow.

 

Our psyches are better situated now, and our souls are further developed. Our hearts grew bigger and our power stronger. And although I haven't learned it all ... nor will I ever, even up to death ... honestly, I wouldn't trade this age.

 

Women especially around their 40s and 50s finally "meet themselves." We are surer of things. We don't accept the stuff that doesn't matter any longer. Our minds are sharper and clearer. We have cut our path, and (I hope) know what and whom we want (and who and what we don't want anymore).

 

We rock! We rule! We don't care if our kids call us uncool!  

(hey that rhymes).

 

I look at the hands typing this and think these are the same 10 fingers I have had all of my life, the same hands that painstakingly penciled in my big sloppy first-grade alphabet letters - penmanship we called it. Then 11 years later, these fingers wrote and typed a 12th grade English paper. These are the same two legs which pedaled my little "two wheeler" red bike on the sidewalks of the old neighborhood as did they pedal me through several Salisbury Seagull Century bike ride (100 miles baby!). These are the same green eyes that for all 50 years of life I have looked out into the world to see, observe, ponder, learn, wonder, sleep with, and apply mascara.  

 

Do I mind turning 50? Nah. I truly embrace it. I heard someone say the other day when I called the impending birthday a milestone, that EVERY BIRTHDAY is a milestone. How right she was! People define it as "The Big One" yet aren't all the decade markers "big" birthdays? 40 ... 50 ... 60 ... 70 ... 80 ... 90 ... and certainly 100!

 

So instead of referring to our ages as "getting old" ... let's merely say we are getting older. And instead of creating in our heads a mid-life CRISIS (birthdays are gonna happen anyway; not much we can do to stop the calendar) let's perceive it as a mid-life CELEBRATION.  

 

Isn't that better?  

 

Whatever age YOU will be on your next birthday ... tuffo! Dive right in.