So I am totally middle-aged. Some might say the wrong side of…
Mr B and I have now turned from serial wedding guests to serial 40th birthday party-ers…and very fun it is too. We, as a generation, and I assume like most generations before us, have relaxed with age. Parties are MORE fun now. Partly because of the sheer rarity of them but also the fact that you’re not worried about who you might end up with. We are together.
Who you’re going to talk to doesn’t matter. We’ve been there. We’ve done that. I know full well that there are three men in my life I can absolutely guarantee that when, having had three or four too many, will get me home, often by force. And also about three girls who would ensure the same. Ladies, I salute you.
Yet, despite only recently coming to accept middle age as a reality I am not sure I am totally over it.
Part of me, the non post-workout agonising/achey part still feels like I am in my twenties.
I have found myself of late listening back to music from my youth. I am reminiscing about Glastonbury 1995 with my girls. Thinking about how much fun we had, how full of fun and desire we were. How we really had no idea what the next TWENTY years would mean for any of us.
In the midst of my crisis I am currently contemplating my first tattoo. This was first contemplated over twenty years ago with some very good buddies (Cat, Matt) and I know at least two of us are re-considering. One of us may have done it already. But best to give it some thought and not rush these things right?
So, twenty years later…I think I’m ready.
Or is it a mid-life crisis that I will come to regret?
ALL and ANY advice welcome.
Don’t freak out Mum…I’ll be at least starting out small.
Have any of you had similar crises? Please let me know below.
Helen, I am sorry you couldn’t comment, have screen-shotted to include x
Help lovely people….