The Disrespect of 40: It’s the Audacity for Me…
We are two months into 2022 and I got a curious piece of mail. I am sure many of my fellow funky-fresh 1982ers got a similar — if not the exact same piece of mail. This envelope came, initially wrapped in the typical white, glossy finish, shining with hope of reflecting enough philanthropic fervor to get a few donations out of me. I give to several charities annually; no big deal getting these kinds of envelopes, right?!?! Oh, but no…this envelope served a hilariously tragic reminder that being “Fierce and 40” was going to roll in with more consistent reminders of my mortality.
Then, there’s the case for these new visitors on my face. From puberty, we are introduced to the fact that the human body is made up of it’s own defense mechanism against cold. Enter Teen Wolf, stage left — this fuzz is popping up in external spaces beyond the crown and it is a little alarming. Imagine feeling that same level of pubescent surprise when the late 20s and 30s had the audacity to bring these furry visitors to my melanated youthful face! And dear reader, that is not the end of the boldness! No, no — stopping there would be too much like right and fair. No, we have to top off this asinine self-awareness with the fact that these furry visitors on my face decided to reveal they have a DEI council and come in diverse colors, now including grey and white!
What in the Storm-and-Rogue-of-X-Men is happening?!?!?
So now, between Susan G. Komen and her paper-pushing prophets (who somehow know my birthday is coming up), and my body taking this Judas-stance against all this pretty in my face, I am reminded that I am a knee-crack and maybe 50 years closer to the end of this side of eternity.
I CANNOT be the only person who saw that pink-ribbon and responded, saying out loud to myself, “the utter disrespect!” Now, mind you, I am one who takes breast cancer VERY seriously, having had multiple family members and family friends who either died or survived (thankfully I know more survivors). And, during my 2021 annual lady-parts tune-up, I got a not-so-subtle reminder from my O.B. that I should be looking forward to getting my ‘girls’ even more flattened at my first mammogram. Childbirth already did a number on me and now, a literal “double whammy!”
In the end, dear reader, aging comes with pros that outweigh the cons, by far. However, this writer (I am realizing how very Bridgerton my writing sounds — which is a whole other “ode to old” that I will save for another day) — this writer just wanted to put pen to paper, or fingers to keys, to commemorate turning 40 in honor of every white chin hair and mammogram-squished boob out there!
In all seriousness, I am thankful to God for the research and advancements in technology for these check-ups. Cheers to all of us turning Fierce and 40!
Side note: I just want to point out that most of us born in 1982 graduated in Y2K and now we turn 40 in the year of the ultimate Tuesday — 2/22/22.
We are double awesome just based on this fact alone. Everyone born before or after ‘82 should absolutely feel free to hate on the Class of Double-O and our audacity to be double-great!
Now…on with your day.
And now in the infamous words of Meryl Streep, as Miranda Priestly (The Devil Wears Prada), who will be 72 this year on June 22nd…“That is all.”
