I’m going to be 30 years old next year. Just publicizing that fact feels awkward. I grew up hearing that it’s rude to ask a woman her age and learning that one of the most kind compliments one can receive has to do with a youthful appearance.
There is a global obsession with youth, and age seems to be the constant footnote as each year passes by. I’ve never lied about my age, but I did choose not to share it at times because it just became one of those things that you do without much thought or question: like changing your last name after marriage. No one has a legitimate argument why a woman must take her husband’s last name other than it’s just something that you should do to solidify the union. In the same exact way, we look at age as a yardstick to measure goal accomplishment, instead of just focusing on the accomplishments or milestones achieved.
Two weeks ago, a cashier asked for my ID in the supermarket. I was purchasing a bottle of white wine to make mushroom risotto. I found so much pleasure in showing her my ID. I would be lying if I said my ego wasn’t majorly stroked. It made me think that perhaps I don’t care so much about sharing my age with friends and family because I sit on the pro side of society’s popular age- related desirability. However, one day I will no longer belong to this “favoured” youthful clique. Just as how I adored the compliments the absence of them could result in misery.
Like with most things we have become engrossed with determining our happiness based on the social teachings that have been passed down for generations. These things are difficult to unlearn. At this very moment my sub-conscience forces me to remember that I am terrified of getting old because of how I was socialized as regards age.
Life can happen at any time. There is no reason why age should be used as a factor to determine your happiness or influence your choices. And if it does influence your choices, you have missed the most important mark by concerning yourself with something externally driven as opposed to internally driven. A recipe for unhappiness.
I battle constantly with myself over how much I should spend on anti-aging products. It seems like a double-edged sword because in reality I am developing slow and steady self-hate with the older version of myself. I try to keep my routine as simple as possible and to incorporate healthy habits, instead of a band aid that inevitably masks my true identity
My breakfast bowl
Almost every day I try to have my signature breakfast bowl. It comprises muesli, yogurt, blueberries, blackberries, pomegranate , banana, pineapple, raspberry, mixed nuts, cinnamon, nutmeg and a small scoop of organic honey. Berries, in particular, help to control free radicals (a leading cause of skin damage).
A jade roller
I like to refer to this as a facial broom/mop. Jade rollers massage the face while simultaneously contributing to the natural detoxification process by draining the lymphatic system. It aids blood flow and helps to foster a glow.
Lay off the stress
Stress has got to be the most underestimated factor when it comes to ageing. It’s a silent killer that is interlocked with so many other health issues, because there is no particular tool to measure stress. For instance, we may be quick to say we experience insomnia but it many cases this is a result of chronic stress. Stress can also influence how much and what you eat.
As much as paying into beauty ideals with the promise of remaining youthful tempts me every day, it is truly a band aid on a fake problem. Age shouldn’t attract a negative feeling as the number increases and creams and serums can’t fix core issues that don’t organically promote holistic health.