Making Friends with 50

As much of a worrier as I am, getting older has never really bothered me.  I try to see each birthday as a gift and accept it with gratitude.  This year, I had some anxiety leading up to the big day, but mostly because I felt pressured to mark it in some monumental manner.  I thought I should celebrate turning 50, then move on.  It hadn't occurred to me to rejoice in being 50.

 

Given this epiphany, I've decided to treat myself like other institutions that hit the half-century mark and celebrate for a full year, "Lauri's Golden Jubilee," if you will.  For the next 12 months, I will seek opportunities, both large and small, to honor my first 50 years and lay the groundwork for the next (aren't I the optimist).  A year of embracing the past and planning the future, both pampering and pushing myself.

 

I've tried out 50 for nearly a month now, and I like it.  The 40s were fickle (I'm young/I'm old; I know what I'm doing/no, I don't) -- like the middle school of middle age.  Fifty, however, is solid; it has gravitas.  I don't feel young or old; I feel as though I've arrived.  At the risk of sounding like Opr*h, I feel like me, but better -- Lauri 5.0 (with fewer bugs and more advanced features).

 

Instead of bemoaning 50, I intend to own 50 and appreciate every minute...once I've dragged this aching body out of bed each morning, that is.