I Don’t Think Of Myself As ‘Old’ – But I’m Totally On Board With ‘Old-Person’ Stuff

by Christine Organ
Originally Published: 

When you’re a person in your mid-40s, lots of changes start to happen. You have acne and wrinkles – at the same time. Night sweats become routine. Everything hurts. Yet, despite all of that, I still don’t feel “old.” I mean, I just graduated college a few years back, right? Oh wait… that was almost 25 years ago.

Sure, I’m middle aged, whatever-the-fuck that is. I don’t think of myself as “old.” But I sure as hell love doing “old-person” stuff.

Case in point: I took up knitting a couple years ago. I am terrible at it and it takes me forever to make one freaking scarf, yet on any given Saturday night you can find me sitting on my couch with a blanket over my legs knitting away, happy as a clam.

Earlier this week, my husband and I had a day date. We didn’t day drink. We didn’t go to a fancy lunch or catch a matinee of the latest movie. Instead, we went for a walk in the arboretum. That’s right, we went for a stroll to look at trees. If that isn’t peak “old person”, I don’t know what is.

Oh wait. We’re also getting one of those fancy beds where you can raise your head and your feet – and we each have our own side so one of us can be head raised, the other flat on our back. I am downright giddy about this bed. Even though I’m pretty sure it ages us by at least two decades.

I might not want to be old. I might not feel old. But I wear orthotics and I’m getting a hip replacement in a couple months so… maybe I’m not as not-old as I think I am.

But along with that not-old-ness comes the freedom to do old-person shit without worrying about it being old person shit. Strolling around on a lovely fall day looking at trees is awesome. Knitting is relaxing AF. And a bed that moves is…well, it’s a goddamn genius invention straight out of the Jetsons and I’m gonna enjoy TF out of it.

One of the thing that comes with being not-old but.. you know… kinda-old is the inability to give a shit about what people think of you. You care less about should and ought-tos. You do what feels good – for you. I used to be the girl who stayed out literally all night long, closing down the 5 a.m. bars, and today the thought of staying out past 9:30 pm sounds exhausting. Give me a happy hour and bed by nine, thankyouverymuch. Forget the thumping rock concerts, I’ll take a piano bar with music I can sing along to but not so loud that I can’t hear the person next to me.

But just because I and other folks my age might love lots of “old-person” stuff – like drinking tea and doing puzzles – that doesn’t mean we’re shrinking into the background. Quite the opposite, actually. We’re gonna keep taking up space. Keep talking about how weird and confusing middle age is. We might slather our face in wrinkle cream every night or we might say “fuck it” and dye blue streaks in our hair. Or we might snuggle under an afghan to do a crossword puzzle. The key isn’t what we do; it’s how these things feel.

It just so happens that old-person shit feels really fucking good.

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