I'm Not Old, I'm Just Seasoned

The Joys of Aging with Grace: Mid-life Crisis and The Age Paradox at 40

The Shifting Perception of Age

As I approach my fortieth birthday, I find myself caught in a strange temporal web. My government IDs may soon declare me firmly middle-aged, but my mind stubbornly clings to the vitality of my twenties. This dissonance, I’ve realized, is a shared experience many of us navigate as we enter this new phase of life.

I vividly remember being a teenager and thinking thirty was ancient. The infamous “Friends” episode where Rachel turns 30 comes to mind — her despair at reaching this seemingly monumental age resonated with my younger self. Back then, forty felt like a distant horizon, a number associated more with aspirational retirement goals than with dreams and enthusiasm.

Yet here I am, on the cusp of forty, and I certainly don’t feel like a senior. If anything, I feel closer to twenty-five than fifty-five. A lot akin to the episode of “Just like that” where Carrie Bradshaw at 55 is horrified at being called a gathering of seniors for a new magazine launch by her ex-Vogue editor. There’s a vibrancy in my spirit that refuses to dim, even as I notice the subtle signs of aging in the mirror.

The human aging painting by the Spanish artist. Credit: Instagram/Sergi Cadenas

The Cultural Connotation — The Frozen Cultural Landscape

Part of this youthful feeling stems from the world around me. The cultural touchstones of my youth haven’t faded away — they’ve become classics. Even today, 20-year-old music plays in restaurants and bars. (Though I wonder: am I unconsciously avoiding younger people’s hangouts?) Songs from the 2000s aren’t oldies; they’re still vibrant parts of our musical landscape.

Even more surreal is seeing the actors I grew up with still headlining blockbuster movies. Tom Cruise at 60, Robert Downey Jr. in his 50s, Jennifer Aniston at 54 — and closer to home, Shah Rukh Khan still reigning as King. It’s as if the entertainment industry has frozen time, allowing us to imagine that we, too, haven’t aged.

The Multifaceted Nature of Age

This internal youthfulness creates interesting dynamics, especially in the workplace. My twenty-something colleagues often regard me as too senior to understand their challenges, while I find myself bemused by their seemingly carefree attitudes. I realize those a decade or two my senior probably view me with the same incomprehension — a cycle of perception spanning generations.

As I navigate this middle ground, I’m struck by age’s multifaceted nature: chronological (the candles on your cake), biological (the flight of stairs i struggle to climb), and mental (my mind and my heart!). The disparity between how I feel and how I’m perceived has led to deep reflections on aging. Beyond the fine lines and wrinkles, I’m emerging as a person more sure of herself, more confident in taking life in stride. I recognize my responsibilities while acknowledging the need for self-care. Well, It is high time to become comfortable with oneself and realize that most people’s opinions don’t truly matter.

Embracing the Paradox

I’m coming to understand that growing older isn’t just about accumulating years; it’s about gathering experiences, wisdom, and perspective. It’s learning to hold multiple truths simultaneously — being both young and old, mentor and student, changing and consistent.

As I prepare to blow out forty candles, I’m filled with a mix of dread and anticipation. This milestone, once viewed as the threshold of being “old,” now feels like the opening of a new chapter. I carry the energy and dreams of my youth, tempered and enriched by my thirties’ experiences.

Turning forty isn’t about reaching the hill’s peak and preparing for descent. It’s about gaining a new vantage point, offering a clearer view of where I’ve been and where I might go. It’s recognizing that enthusiasm, dreams, and aspirations aren’t solely the province of the young, but the lifeblood of a well-lived life at any age.

So here’s to forty — to being young enough to dream and old enough to make those dreams reality. To being experienced enough to mentor and humble enough to keep learning. To embracing the paradox of feeling forever young while growing undeniably older.

Perhaps that’s the true gift of midlife — the wisdom to appreciate the complex journey of age in all its contradictions, the comfort in our own skin, and the understanding that the journey of self-discovery continues. 

I am not over yet! — but a story still to be written with plenty of blank pages and in my own words.