An Age Old tale

My mom's nurse thought I was 25. This was great...until she found out I was 42. And then an immediate shift in the room occurred. Doom and gloom draped over me as I heard the calculations clicking in her head.

At 25, I could walk out the door in my jeans and tennis shoes looking like a kid; at 42, I should really think about dressing more age appropriate.

At 25, she was impressed that I had a house; at 42, she was wondering why I lived alone in it.

At 25, I was a kid stepping up the plate to help her mom; at 42, I was an old maid living with her mother.

"You never married?" That word never has such finality to it!

Well, no, but I'm only 42 and you think I look 25. Something in that equation seems to work in my favor. I felt like the spinster in a Victorian novel whose stoicism and virtue outweigh her looks and charm. Suddenly, I was my age again, but now it felt older than before.

"No, no…I am not married." It was like going home for the holidays and explaining that really, I have a lot of close friends, a very fulfilling career and oh, 2 cats. This thing I perceived as a compliment suddenly backfired into all my insecurities about my actual station in life - and wondering if the train had left it.

I don't know which is worse: looking 25 and being 42 or being 42 and looking 42. Ok, I do know which scenario most people would prefer….but what do I get when someone thinks I look younger than I actually am? Is it mere vanity that makes me happy or do I actually think I have those extra years their mind has tacked on me? Unfortunately, even if we look 5 or 10 years younger than we are (and in this particular case 15, thank you very much) our skin, legs, and eggs are still their actual "born on" age.

The thing is, it doesn't really matter. What people think is not going to change anything except perhaps their expectations. It will brighten my day for a while, but it won't change the facts: I am 42 and somewhere in the middle.