The new mid-life crisis and how i came to accept it
If you’re 40 and you know it, run like hell… to the nearest spa!
I always assumed I would somehow remain young. It is the folly of youth that makes one delusional, but I did not know this then. With time, I began to realise that growing old was fait accompli for everybody that was ever born, unless you were Cher, and since I wasn’t her, I too would one day yield to the systematic onslaughts of aging.
Of course, it isn’t all woe and dismay. There are many perks to growing older. You stop being stupid, for instance; you learn to stand up for yourself and hopefully cultivate the ability to say ‘no’; you like yourself better and care less for other people’s opinion, and you realise the importance of a good night’s sleep.
Each to their own really, but in my opinion, if middle age was going to leave its claw marks on you anyway, you might as well give up all resistance and go down without a fight, overstrained muscles or pigmentation marks from high altitude sun exposure.