The appearance of wrinkles
At 33, I’m noticing the start of wrinkles around my eyes... more creases when I smile.
Many will say, “33 is so young!”, which of course is true. But it’s also true that it’s not that young either.
Year by year, the gap between myself and youth becomes more palpable. I’ve always felt a bit older than my peers, and the feeling amplifies over time.
In 5th grade there was a new girl at my school. She was odd, but in an endearing way. The type of girl that if she told you she talked to ghosts, you’d believe her.
One day, completely at random, she put her face close to mine and stared into my eyes, holding the gaze for way more than was comfortable, before announcing:
“You’re an old soul.”
For some reason I never forgot that. Not that I believe in that sort of thing, but it just felt so... accurate.
Over the years, friends and strangers alike have used that same phrase to describe me – old soul.
If it’s true, maybe my 33 is someone elses 53? Who knows.
What I do know, is at 33 my life may be only a third of the way over... or half over... or maybe closer to over than I think? I hope for as many years as possible, but there are no guarantees.
At the very least, I’m happy to say that I have no qualms about aging. I love getting older, wiser, and calmer. There’s a certain self-assurance... you care less and less what other people think of you.
(Although if you’re not careful, that can turn into bullheadedness.)
But for now I’m enjoying the appearance of wrinkles, and look forward to my first gray hairs. There’s beauty in it. Something sad, yet profound, about watching my youth disappear.
And knowing that aging doesn’t mean becoming a curmudgeon, and that getting “old” is much more a state of mind, than an inevitable destination.
There are a million ways to stay young of heart, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.