Can 50 not be the new 40 please?

I’m looking at Facebook. It’s May which means it is Bikini Season. No, not seniors in high school going on vacation. It is Yummy Mummy and Glammy Bikini Season. Spray tans, stripper heels, Swarovski crystal bikinis, bling, and fake lashes. Toned arms, six-pack abs, Buns of Steel. All you must do is walk AND work out daily. Meal prep. Take classes to learn to pose and walk in those six-inch heels. Weigh yourself. In the weeks leading up to it all, restrict your diet to fish and asparagus. For every meal…. for days and days and days. But hey, you’ll be ripped! You’ll look amazing! You’ll get more likes than ever on Facebook! You, too, can be a Bikini competitor in your 40s, 50s, and 60s. Or not…

I aspire to be my Mom at 50. Or my Nana at 50. Stomachs a little rounder. Arms a little jigglier. Buns a bit softer. Clothes a bit comfier. Laugh lines a little deeper. They didn’t aspire to have bikini bodies at 40, 50 and 60. They left their sparkling two-pieces in their past. They preferred Scrabble while snacking and sipping on an ice-cold Coca-Cola or the occasional cocktail. They didn’t spend their time prepping their own meals. Instead they made dinner for their families and enjoyed those homemade desserts with them, too.

I don’t want 50 to be the new 40. I’m tired of the pressure to look younger! Feel younger! Dress younger! I am happy to be 52. I’m proud I’ve made it this far. I love my crow’s feet that prove how often I’ve smiled and laughed. I’m tired of living up to society’s unrealistic standards of beauty and aging. Instead, I’m just trying to be nice to myself. Enjoy the dinners I make and share with my family. Enjoy Scrabble with my friends. Enjoy my life while I am happy and healthy enough to do so.