Time Out!

I swear, I had every intention of blogging on May 13th, which was the beginning of the three month countdown to my fiftieth birthday.

But I got busy and forgot to do it. Maybe that had something to do with me getting older. Who knows? Or for that matter, who cares? The truth is, I'm finding myself blaming a lot more on my age these last few months.

I started "Pushing Fifty" (both the blog and the emotional ordeal) a couple years ago. In the beginning,the blog was intended to be an entirely light-hearted account of my journey to the big Five-Oh!

I'm not one of those women who has ever worried about getting older. "I am what I am" has always been my motto.

"Love me or leave me"

"Age is just a number."

All the usual cliches have applied.

That was then, this is now! The closer I get to August 13, 2010, the more impact the fact the "number" of my next "age" is going to be FIFTY, is having on me.

This use to be much easier to ignore. Call me the Queen of Denial. My body, mind, and spirit made a pact that as long as "we" agreed I was not going to let my birthday have any adverse affects on me, the date would only serve as an excuse to throw caution to the wind, run off to Mexico and have a huge, week long celebration! Friday, August Thirteenth, 2010 aka my fiftieth birthday would be a day worthy of great acknowledgment. No more, no less.

Then, my body decided to rebel. It started packing on pounds, entirely of it's own accord. No permission granted (no permission asked, for that matter)

My face suddenly started catching up on all the wrinkles it had refused to take on in the past. WHAM! One night the wrinkle fairy crept into my room and slapped me with the wrinkle stick ... twice, at least!

It has apparently become the goal of my physical self to LOOK fifty by the time my birthday rolls around.

Never in the history of ME have I ever looked my age!

I would have killed to look my age back when I was a teenager. I felt that way well into my twenties. I didn't like being mistaken for a youngster then.

By the time I hit my thirties and forties, I began to enjoy looking younger than my age. I accepted that it was a blessing, not a curse, to be mistaken for a younger woman than I truly was.

And now? Well now I am really missing that about me.

I look in the mirror, or at recent photographs of myself and wonder "Who is that older woman?"

I am calling a "time out" on this whole pushing fifty thing. I need a break, a chance to regroup and come up with a new strategy. Mexico, or some exotic getaway, is definitely still in the plan, but the rest of this stuff ... not so much!

I need to catch my breath! (and lose twenty pounds)

I need a face lift! (like ... yesterday!)

I need lots of other things, including some heavy meds and possibly a private investigator to search for loopholes in my birth certificate.

I don't want to be fifty, but even more than that I don't want to look or feel my age!


May 18, 2010
Becky Taylor
Bold New Day! LLC
Personal Development Coaching for Women
http://www.beckyjtaylor.com
http://www.boldnewday.com