Your body begins aging the moment you’re born. But man, oh, man, you really feel that process happening when you hit your 40s, like, really feel it. I should know, because I’m at that age.
I’m at that age when I have to wear readers.
I’ve developed farsightedness. From my phone to restaurant menus, I have to read text at arm’s length, if I’m not wearing reading glasses. And forget reading the small print on the back of a medicine bottle or a magazine in low light without a pair of readers. It’s not happening.
My mother said I would have to start wearing reading glasses when I hit 40. She wasn’t completely right (don’t you hate when mothers are right?). My eye deterioration waited a little while after hitting that monumental year to begin. But she was close. I would say it was around 42 that I saw the change in my vision. My ego, however, took even longer to accept reality. Just last month (I’m 45 now) I finally bought readers that I regularly (and shamelessly) use. They’re purple to match my hair.
My life is so much easier now that I allow myself to rely on them. Working an eight-hour workday on the computer, my eyes tire after a few hours. Using reading glasses helps me do my job properly. Also, I’m back to reading magazines with nothing more than an overhead light, no reading lamp necessary. And, at long last, I can read that teeny tiny text on the back of medicine bottle. I wish I had swallowed my pride a long time ago. Now, I desire a wardrobe of readers to keep all over my home, in my bag, and in my car. They need to be handy at all times.
I’m at that age when I sometimes have to use lube.
And don’t give me that TMI bullshit. Let’s be adults here. While sex is perfectly natural, it’s not always naturally perfect. So, even when the sex is hot, I just might need to reach into my nightstand and pull out the lube. It doesn’t mean I’m not aroused. It just means I’m over 40.
Our bodies change as we age. Men over 40 struggle with maintaining an erection (or achieving one) and women over 40 struggle with producing vaginal lubrication. Let us be grateful for lube, not ashamed of it.
Having said that… I’m at that age when I give zero fucks.
I used to embarrass easily, but if I’m over here writing about lube, obviously that has changed. It’s not that I’m being rebellious or that I just couldn’t care less about what people think. It’s just that I’m at that age when I’ve experienced enough trauma, drama, and crisis in my life that I understand what’s really important. I just don’t get concerned with the petty shit anymore.
Life sometimes sucks. People die. People stop loving you. You get sick. You lose money. You get canned. Life throws real drama your way. You give zero fucks about other people’s opinions when you realize that. You embrace what you do have to grateful for in life. You embrace yourself as you are. You give zero fucks as a result.
I’m at that age when I’m glad to be alive.
Like I said, people die. The older you get, the more you experience death. Facing the mortality of others forces you to face your own. I may complain about the deterioration, aches, and wrinkles that come with aging, but you won’t hear me complain about getting older. The alternative is worse.
I’m at that age when I say, “I’m at that age.”
I can’t take credit for such cleverness. My friend, John Hawkins, who is also at that age, said that to me once. And I thought, he’s right. We are at that age when we preface much of what we say with, “I’m at that age,” because, well, we’re at that age.
Soon, I’ll be at that age when I preface my observations with, “In my day,…” I’ll get back to you when that happens.
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