Last week I saw a picture of a 90-year-old woman bungee jumping with a great big smile on her face.
My first thought was, ‘I want to be like her when I grow up.’

I used to worry about aging. I suppose we all do. I remember really worrying in my mid 20’s. I’d just finished uni and triathlon and felt lost, I didn’t know what to do with my life.  I think it’s natural to worry. And it’s definitely natural to age. Unless you’re Barbie of course – that bitch never ages.

I’ve noticed as a traveller it can be difficult, there are visa restrictions depending on your age. You are only allowed certain working holiday visas until you’re 30. But what if you’re 36 and decide you want to go travelling and work abroad? Why are you too old to embrace that opportunity? Why? The answer is: I really don’t know.

It’s weird how age suddenly creeps up on you. One minute you’re 18, necking entire bottles of Sambuca, wearing a skirt so short the knickers have to be sewn in, the next you’re 35 reading Jane Austin novels with a cup of tea in hand and asking what the hell Topshop is. Wtf is that about? (This doesn’t actually happen btw. For a start I’ve never sewn my knickers to my skirt – that was Lyvette. And secondly I can still drink at least 2 bottles of Sambuca before I vomit. I’m aiming for 2.5 when I’m 35.)

As I’ve gotten older I’ve actually started to begrudge people who don’t ID me when I buy alcohol (especially in NZ where they’re really strict);
“Errr excuse me bitch, do you not need my ID? Are you saying I look over 25? I’m 31 but I don’t need your negativity in my life right now. You need glasses.”
Obvs, I don’t actually say this, but sometimes I worry my once youthful looks have gone out the window. I blame India. And wine. And life loving. (Please note: if I don’t have my ID on me, the above statement is void).

You see people after a while and they have turned grey, they have beer bellies and they suddenly ‘look their age’. On the other hand, sometimes you get that person who’s 70 and looks 35. I hate that person. Mainly because I aspire to be them when I’m older. And it gets you thinking about age. It’s annoying really. Your hangovers get more dramatic, that ab is much harder to keep, those 8 hours sleep become more and more essential. Some people ‘let them themselves go’ whilst others ‘look fantastic for their age’.

And age makes you worry about other things doesn’t it? Like,
“I’m 23, I should be married and have kids by now!” Huh, should you?
“I’m 43, I’m too old to travel the world.” Why? Just why?
“I’m 35, I’m too old for a career change.” Definitely too old – you’ve only got another 30+ years to work…
Age makes you worry about lots of things. But, I guess, my question is ‘why?’ No one wants to get older, fatter, wrinklier. But it’s life, age happens. It’s uncontrollable. And yes it does have its restrictions. But why should it stop you doing things? Why should it stop you enjoying?

When I was 18 I thought 21 was old.
When I was 21 I thought 26 was old.
When I was 26 I thought 30 was old.
Now I’m 31 I have no idea what’s old.
“I’m too old.” Bullshit. Why? Why are you too old?

The other day I worked at a wedding. The newlyweds were in their 40’s. The groom stood up at the end of the night to do his speech and he said;

“Every single one of us needs to look around and take in this moment. Because we are ALL in the prime of our lives. We are all living the life. And we are all creating the memories that will stay with us forever, the memories that we will share with others in years to come.”

This made me think. The prime of their lives?  Isn’t that when you’re in your 20’s? What the hell is this guy on? And it actually made me smile. It made me like this man who I’d never met, and his bride, and his room full of friends and family of various generations who were enjoying life.

We all live and we all die. It’s the bits in between that matter. We can do what we can do. We can control what we can control. We can look after our bodies and minds as best we can. We can live the lives we want within our means and we have the ability to make things happen. Not everything and not unrealistic things. But some things. If you’re unhappy change it. If you want to travel, travel. If you want to meet more people, take up a new hobby, go to new places, strive to do it. But do not complain that you’re ‘too old’ to do this stuff. Don’t complain about it, do it.

In Sydney we stayed at the YHA at Bondi. I met a lecturer at the university and his wife. They were in their 60’s. I asked them why they stayed in a hostel. He said ‘Where else can you meet and interact with people of all ages? It’s an experience and just because we’re older it doesn’t mean we don’t want that.’
And I smiled. And fried some broccoli with his wife.

People worry too much. They worry about jobs and marriage. They worry about what they’ll have for tea that evening and whether their kids have eaten their daily portion of fruit and veg. They worry about wrinkles and saggy boobs. And they worry because of their age, they worry because of stigma’s. Why?! What does it matter? If you’re 80 and want to skydive, why not? If you’re 43 and want to travel, go for it. If you’re 53 and want a career change, why the hell not?! If you’re 40 and single, what’s wrong with that?!

So, I guess my point is this: I used to be worried about my age. But now, although I’d like to stay at 31 forever I try my absolute hardest not to dwell on it. I am not Peter Pan. I realise I’m not a dinosaur, but I’ll be in my grave before I know it. I want to go there having made the most of my life. Having lived it the way I wanted, with the people I wanted. I want to experience life itself with the people who make me happy. I want to meet people, learn new things and belly laugh. I want to make the memories that will make me smile in years to come, and I want this to continue until I die.

And what’s more, I have decided, I will have no regrets.
Because nobody wants to be old with regrets.

Because I will continue to get older and during that time I want to live, not exist.

And the only thing that will stop me enjoying living is me.

And for every moment that I live I am creating memories. And these memories will continue no matter how old I am.

And what I’ve realised is: The older I get the more experiences I have to draw upon. The better I can deal with anything that’s thrown at me. And the more memories I have to look back on and cherish. 

Last week I saw a picture of a 90-year-old woman bungee jumping, with a great big smile on her face.
My first thought was, ‘I want to be like her when I grow up.’

We’re all going to get old.
But it’s how you do it that counts.