I was just thinking abut this the other day. I was trying to explain to an imaginary person how I looked so great for my age, today (I don’t know, I don’t know. (that’s for all of you die hard abfab fans.))
Don’t act like I’m the only one who does it either. We’ve all seen our former classmates out and about or posting pictures on Facebook and thought, “Damn! They look old as shit. I don’t look that old…do I?” Haven’t you ever thought that?
No? I’m the only one? Me and Jennifer Saunders? Weird. Well, I’ll admit it. I’ve thought that. I’ll be that bitch.
I’ve scrolled through my timeline and an occasional picture will pop up where this person, who the last time I saw them was a mere child like me, is now a full fledge middle aged adult all over their face. It makes no sense. I haven’t changed at all. (I thought about noting the sarcasm here but honestly if you can’t tell that I’m doing a bit then just fuck off.)
Naturally, when they approach me
(in my mind) they are amazed. “How did you manage to escape the cruel hands of time?” they ask.
Because I am a kind and benevolent person, I do my best to explain to the imaginary person how I’m still so incredibly attractive and youthful looking well into my thirties. I tell them three things:
- Don’t have kids
- Pamper yourself
- Repeat until dead
I don’t tell them that every lunar cycle I bathe in the blood of a virgin because some people are really sensitive about that sort of thing. I tell ya, go figure with some people, you know what I mean?
Now obviously some of you have already have kids. There is nothing we can do about that now. Certainly, I’m not going to volunteer to watch them for you.
Though the former piece of advice may be out of the question for you, the latter two steps in my three step process don’t have to be. There is hope for you.
*End of bit*
Seriously though, spoil the living shit out of yourself. No one else is likely to volunteer to spoil you this side of 30. Buy some face cream, (Even and, perhaps especially, if you are a man) rub that shit all over every night. This is not a joke people. You must not go quietly into that good night. You must rage, rage against the dying of your face.
One good thing about aging is that you can’t see your own face as clearly as you used to. *rimshot*
More important that any cream, or primer, foundation, sleep mask, whatever form of denial in a bottle you lean towards, is just doing something silly and frivolous as an act of care towards yourself. It really is very important to be sweet to yourself. At all times. In all ways.
Don’t take any guff from people. Don’t associate yourself with people who don’t value your time as much as they value their own. Again, this may be hard if you have children, who are innately selfish and cruel, but just try to work around it.
You don’t have to kill it at the gym either. I could be wrong about this. I’m just going off of my own experience. When I started going to the gym, I tried to go hard. I got plantar fasciitis.
Now I take a different approach. I am in no hurry. I’m exercising to feel better, not to injure myself. I walk, not run, on the treadmill. I half ass swim in the pool. Sometimes I do the weight machines. Sometimes I ride a recumbent bike. That’s about it.
I feel like that’s enough. I feel like it’s firming me up. I mean, it’s taken a year and a half but so fucking what? My joints don’t hurt and I do sweat a little. It’s enough.
I’d rather walk fast for an hour than run for 20 minutes and be out of breath or sore. I feel like walking for a long time is just as good for you even if it’s not as effective. I tried to find evidence to back this up a while back but I couldn’t find anything right away and I got bored. Feels true to me. Once again, good enough. I’m not trying out for the Olympics over here.
I am certain I could be the weight that I want to be, only doing the exercises that I do, if I didn’t love eating food so much. I do love eating food, though. So I eat it, because I love myself and I want me to be happy.
If you don’t want to do something, don’t do it. If you do want to do something, then by all means, please do. Don’t let anyone tell you how to live your life, including me. When you think about how random it is that people even exist at all, shouldn’t we just have a good time with it? Shouldn’t we just enjoy the gift of the life that we have been given instead of micromanaging each second doing things that won’t matter in a hundred years, maybe not even next year, maybe they don’t matter at all?
All that really matters is that you are happy and healthy. All that matters is that you love yourself and the people you chose to love, even if they aren’t your family or whoever you’ve been told that you’re supposed to love. Go easy on yourself because, once again, no one else is going to. Try to relax and remember that we are all going to die alone no matter what we do. Isn’t that wonderful?