- “I’ve never felt better. In fact, I just started ______________ (zumba/yoga/training for a marathon).”
In truth, we feel like hell. We have brittle fingernails, dry hair and night sweats. And by ‘starting’ a new activity, we mean that we have gone shopping at Lululemon and bought a giant canister of protein powder from the health food section of the grocery store. We don’t really like wearing the Lululemon pants because we hate thongs, and we only used the protein powder once because it made our fruit smoothies taste like ass. And even if we do join a bunch of our friends for a zumba class, or an hour of hot yoga, or some crazy-long run, we are ending it with a ‘happy hour’ somewhere. Because we drink… like middle-aged fish!
- “Age just isn’t that important to me.”
It’s amazing our noses don’t grow as we speak this line. We live in a youth-obsessed culture and every time a cashier calls us “ma’am” or reminds us that they went to school with one of our kids, we die a little bit inside.
- “I would rather curl up with a good book than stare at a screen.”
We do enjoy reading, especially with a giant glass of wine in our free hand. But there is a strong element of bullshit to the passion with which we declare our disdain for all things electronic. How many middle-aged women do you actually know that don’t have a TV… and a computer… and probably a smart phone!?!
While we enjoy looking down from our lofty, book-reading perch at those Kardashian-watching, selfie-taking, constantly texting young’uns, we do so while paying for ALL the cable stations AND Netflix. We update our Facebook status daily. And when we are all alone in the house, we are more apt to binge watch Game of Thrones than binge read the Lord of the Rings Trilogy.
- “I’m a Finicky Eater”
‘Finicky’ is just a word we use to get out of having to eat whatever food is currently taking over the world (e.g. kale, acai berries, spelt bread). In truth, we live to eat! In fact, every middle-aged woman social event revolves around food. We brunch, we lunch, we meet for dinner. We host potlucks and BBQs and casual ‘get togethers’ where everyone brings an appetizer and it takes the better part of a week to re-connect the guests with their abandoned Tupperware. And as ‘finicky’ as we may claim to be, we will even eat that damn Kale salad with the acai-berry dressing and the side of spelt bread… if you serve it with a glass or two of pinot grigio.
- “I wish I had little ones in the house again.”
WE DO NOT! We loved our babies and we will love our grandbabies. But we also love sleeping through the night and not smelling like puke, and having uninterrupted conversations with other grown up people. We love tidy living rooms and doing laundry once a week instead of twice a day. We love long peaceful dinners in restaurants where the meals don’t come with a treat of the week. In essence… we love the idea of little ones in the house, but we do not miss the reality!
Please note that I do not claim to represent middle-aged women everywhere. I am sure that there are an ample number of older women out there in the world, merrily training for decathalons, blowing air kisses at the mirrored images of their wrinkled faces, and donating their televisions to charity. To all of you, I bow out of respect… then I pour myself a glass of wine, order in a mountain of Thai food and start the latest season of Girls on HBO!