Jenny Block reflects: Is 50 old?
I turn 50 this month. Fifty. When I was a kid, I thought 50 was so old. Fifty-year-olds are grandparents. They go to more funerals than weddings. They go to bed early and get up even earlier. Right? Hell, when I was 40 I thought 50 was old. And now here I am, and I can’t help but wonder: Am I old?
I know. I know. I sound like Carrie Bradshaw. But I’m serious. I’m sitting here contemplating not just where I am and where I’ve been and where I’m going but also what I’m wearing and the color of my hair and the ways I choose to spend my time and who I spend that time with.
I’ve got some grey that my devoted hairdresser creatively blends with sun-kissed Texas blonde. I wear a lot of above-the-knee dresses with sneakers and flats. And I don poofy Cinderella gowns when I go black tie.
My study is full of unicorns, both because I love them (my new book does have the word unicorn in the title, after all). I baby-talk to my chi-weenie puppy and live for doing crafts with my favorite 6-year-old twins, the daughters of my BFF.
And — stay with me here — I have recently become obsessed with playing Animal Crossing New Horizons on my Nintendo Switch Lite. I do it with my (adult) daughter, who is quarantined three-and-a-half hours away from me with her dad. I love playing it. I love talking to her about it. I love how I can disappear into it even just for a little while.
In fact, I love all of the above. I love who I have become. And yet I am always seeing these magazine articles about “what not to wear over 50.” I hear chatter about women “making fools of themselves” by not acting their ages. I wonder if my hair is too long or my unicorns are too many in number or if Nintendo should be replaced with, I don’t know… needlepoint?
And then I remember: I don’t care. I mean mostly I don’t care. And I shouldn’t. It’s not really anyone else’s business what I choose to wear or how I choose to spend my time regardless of what year I may have been born in.
I know I’m having a particularly hard time because of the state of the world right now. There won’t be any big soiree as planned. There has been no book tour as planned. There is no summer as usual hosting friends and family in our lakeside home. It’s like the whole world is stopped, and yet, the clock ticks on.
It makes me think about how I’m using my time. It makes me think about how I would feel about how I used my time if the world were to right itself tomorrow. It makes me think about the pressure we put on ourselves and one another about how we conduct ourselves based on biological age.
Age is a funny thing, really. I know people in their 20s who are far more mature and intelligent and worldly than people who I know in their 50s and beyond. I have friends who are closer in age to my daughter than to me, and yet, I would count them among my closest friends. I can relate to them far better than I can relate to a lot people who are a lot closer to my age.
So am I young for my age? Are they old for theirs? Is there such a thing as a soul age? Does chronological age mean very little, and what really matters is who we are at our core? I don’t know honestly. And I’m not sure it really matters. What I do know is that feeling at peace is the best sign that we’re doing what is right for us at any age.
If we go out wearing something that we are constantly tugging and pulling at, or that we are worried will raise eyebrows in an unwanted way, then we shouldn’t wear it. If we are spending our time doing something that we question more than we enjoy, then we should stop doing it. If we are hanging out with people who don’t make us feel whole, who don’t feel relatable, who require “work” in order to spend time with, then we should stop spending time with them.
I don’t think it’s that age doesn’t matter. More time on the planet does allow us more time and space to experience things. But it doesn’t mean that we actually take advantage of that time and bother to learn and grow and experience. And someone quite young might be able to see and do far more than their age suggests. You never know.
My wife says I’m an intellectual snob. I confess, I don’t have much tolerance for ignorance. If you can’t see past your own nose, if you think the world is flat, if you believe that having less melanin in your skin or having a penis or worshipping a certain diety makes you better than someone else, you can count me out. That’s not about age. That stuff is about not using your brain.
I’m drawn to things that use my brain and that excite my brain and to people who use theirs. That’s not about age. That about having parents who taught me to let the world in and to use critical thinking and facts and science to analyze rather than simply accept — anyone or anything.
So, we come back to the question: Is 50 old? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I have been on this planet for five decades, and I hope I have used those years well. I will do my best to use whatever years I have left well, and I will continue to surround myself with the peoples and activities that make my brain buzz, because age doesn’t matter but being aware of ourselves and of the world around us does.
Jenny Block is the author of Be That Unicorn (available on Amazon). Send comments or questions to her at GirlOnGirls@gmail.com.
