Fashion Magazine

Aging: Where Am I? What's Going On?

By Catiebeatty @catiebeatty
I've been contemplating the meaning of growing up and getting older for a while now (ok, like 28 years). I don't always delve too deeply into a subject, but I thought this one would make a great blog post.ranunculus, spring, flowers, bouquet, petals, peach, yellow, botany, botanical
It's strange getting to that place in life where you're not a kid anymore, but you're also not "old". I'm not quite sure what to make of it. When I was very young, 7 or 8, I couldn't imagine life after 18. Silly, since my parents were well past that age, but in a child's mind, adults have just always been adults. It didn't help that my dad had been bald since the age of 21, so I just figured once you got past 18 you were simply old.
Well, ten years have past, my high school reunion is coming up, and life keeps moving. The lyrics from Phoenix's song "Countdown" are making a whole lot of sense now. Do you remember when twenty one years was old? I'm at a place in my life, though, where it's just all confusing. The kids I take care of think I'm ancient and older people think I'm just a kid. My boss' friends & clients always tell me they thought I was much younger, whatever that means. And then there's the ever-increasing life expectancy of my generation; the scientific breakthroughs; the maturity-stalling chasms of the internet. Let's be honest, no one ever becomes wiser from looking at cat gifs all day.
I don't feel totally immersed in this thing called adulthood, but I also don't feel young either. It's a little terrifying, being on that cusp. You've been a kid your whole life and now you just aren't. There are fewer tutus available in your size and it's time to stop crying in public. It kind of feels like you're losing something that has always defined you; like your eyes have changed color or you're no longer French (or Greek, or Japanese, or whatever).
ranunculus, spring, flowers, bouquet, petals, peach, yellow
I recently ran into two of my high school English teachers while shopping downtown. They were coming out of Nordstrom and I was both excited to see them and surprised by how much younger they looked than I remembered. I introduced myself (I've changed a lot since high school, so I have to do that) and found myself explaining this. It was one of the few times I'm pretty sure I managed not to insult someone by bringing up their age. I explained, as a high schooler, everyone over the age of 45 may as well be 95. I told them they both looked amazing and not a day over 45. They chuckled and were polite, but I think they were still trying to figure out who I was. 
I'm not certain how old Mrs. Crommet & Mrs. Duffey really are, but when I get to whatever age that might be, I hope to be like them. Yes, I want to be a terrifying, beautiful, grammar Nazi, maybe because it's actually my job, maybe just because I like making people follow rules. Also, I want gleaming white hair, just like their's. 
ranunculus, spring, flowers, bouquet, petals, peach, yellow
Things I've learned since turning 28:
I can't tell what age anyone is anymore I don't know what old is anymore
I have a knack for insulting people when trying to guess their ageTeachers I thought were "like 80" when I was in high school now don't look a day over 45I still feel like an idiot 15 year-old. When does that go away?There's a lot of gray area; not just young or oldAt 28, temper tantrums just as unacceptable as when you were 4Adults are the creators of cool (suck on that, kids I nanny!)Thanks to science, the awkwardness of puberty can extend well into your twenties
All these thoughts and ideas point to one conclusion: I'm probably still "young" and pretty much still clueless.
ranunculus, spring, flowers, bouquet, petals, peach, yellowranunculus, spring, flowers, bouquet, petals, peach, yellow
So how do you feel about age? As you've grown, what's your experience been? Do you feel old, young, or just you? Whether you're 16 or 65, I want to hear your take on things!

Back to Featured Articles on Logo Paperblog