I’m Not Having My Next Birthday, and You Can’t Make Me

I have a close friend who says, “Well, we are close to 70.” That simply doesn’t resonate with me.

Years ago, I had a friend who, at 28, started telling people she was 30.

What’s up with that? Time flies by fast enough already. Why would we rush it? In fact, my motto is: “Time flies whether you’re having fun or not, so you might as well have fun.”

Having said all that, I didn’t mind turning 30. It was a time when women dominated the field of advertising and public relations in some agencies, but we still weren’t respected by male clients. I believed turning 30 would give me some gravitas. It did, but only in my own mind.

When I became a sexagenarian, the only reason that was okay with me was because of the term “‘sexagenarian.” I’m a sex-positive therapist and am on HRT and vaginal hyaluronic acid to increase lubrication. Sexagenarian fits me.

Septuagenarian sounds like a disease to me or a bad side effect, like sepsis. Octogenarian sounds like being compared to an octopus (although, now that I’ve seen the Oscar-winning movie about an octopus, maybe being compared to such a smart being isn’t so bad).

Nonagenarian, a name for those in their 90s, sounds like you no longer exist at all — which, in fact, begins long before we turn 90.

Why would I give up being a sexagenarian for any of those things? Therefore, much like in Jack Benny’s day, when people tried to stay 39 forever, I suggest a trend of staying 69 forever.

I have nothing against those who embrace becoming septuagenarians, octogenarians, or nonagenarians. Technically, I want to be all of those someday and fully plan on doing so.

I simply see no need to accept the labels, the terms, the invisibility, or any of the other downsides to growing older, and then old, in western culture.

A quote that’s always resonated with me is: “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?” Often attributed to Satchel Paige, who had no birth certificate, it was actually first used by Rev. C.H. Wilson in 1927:

We make ourselves old by keeping tally of the years. How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are? Properly, a man is as old as he feels . . . Birthdays are an annoyance and a delusion.

While I don’t consider birthdays an annoyance, they can certainly be a delusion. My chronological age doesn’t equal my physical age, and yours may not either.

I recently went back to the martial art Aikido, which I had practiced off and on for 20 years. Coincidentally, I broke both ankles three months after that by falling over a step. In the hospital, I was told repeatedly by the doctors and nurses how healthy I am in general, which I’d felt, but it was nice to have it confirmed. Blood work also confirmed it.

Knowing I’m healthy (except for those two broken ankles, of course) will help motivate me to stay that way.

What else keeps us younger than our years? Keeping our minds young. Learning something new each day, which shouldn’t be difficult with today’s internet access. Looking up slang in the Urban Dictionary. Listening to current music. Nothing marks us as old more than not listening to music from the last few decades, or not knowing what the “kids” are saying.

Keep doing the things you enjoy. As soon as these ankles heal, I’m heading back to Aikido. It’s not a sport, it’s a lifestyle of living in the moment, expecting nothing, and being ready for anything — another good motto for growing older.

Whether I expect to age isn’t of any real import. Being ready for all eventualities is. What’s even more important is to enjoy the journey, however long it lasts and however many turns of the road it takes.

If I didn’t know how old I was, how old would I be? It varies day to day, but not year to year. Year to year, I’m as young as I’ve ever been.

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This post was previously published on Medium.

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