Last week
was my birthday. I say last week because I celebrated for days on end. Because I turned 50.
All my
life, I've waited for this important day. Don't ask me why, but 16, 21, 30, and
40 were not particularly important milestone birthdays for me. Although they
represent an age when there is a shift in opportunity, responsibility - and at
40, shifting boobs and buns - I can't say that any were ages that I looked
forward to becoming. But 50. This one is different.
This is the
age I've always wanted to be. I am a big girl, now.
At 50 I am
fully aware of all that is right and wrong with the world; but at 50 I know
that not all things can be fixed, and only a precious few need to be fixed by
me.
At 50 I
have perspective on what is important and what is insignificant; and I know at
50 to focus my energies and resources only on things that are meaningful and
lasting.
At 50 I
know what it is to invest in myself or to play the martyr; and at 50 I have
learned to really be kind to me.
At 50 I realize
that I can choose to read this month's Vogue
or the Holy Bible; and at 50, I long to know the mind and ways of God much more
than this season's color.
Our
stay-young, look-young, be-young culture has stripped away the pride of milestone
birthdays after 30. It's not that I don't want to look and be at my best -
don't get me wrong. I have a rendezvous with "Travis" (the treadmill) every
morning at 6:45 a.m. I have nearly spent the equivalent of the national budget
deficit on creams, potions, and procedures to look "dewy and radiant". And you
won't find me wearing sensible shoes; I'll continue to shop 'til I drop to find
the best deal on a great pair of heels (preferably Jimmy Choos). But I won't be
defined by those things that only defined me when I was younger. Today, more so
than ever, I will be defined by the condition of my heart and the wisdom of my
soul.
Because this
is the age I've always wanted to be. I am a big girl, now.
Celebrating
liberation,
Ellen
Posted by Ellen on October 22, 2009 10:44 AM
| Category: A Note from Ellen
