Feeling My Age - Or Not

What a week.  Is it Friday yet?  Okay, good.

In my heart and in my mind, I feel young.  And I try not to look in the mirror more than necessary, so I'm caught off guard when something reminds me of how long I've been on this earth.

The first was the death on Monday of Luke Perry.  Admittedly, I was never a huge Beverly Hills 90210 fan.  The show ran during a decade when I was getting married, building a career, and having kids.  No DVR, no Hulu, and not a lot of time to watch TV during the week.  But I tuned in from time to time.

His death, at the age of 52, from a stroke...was shocking.  I'M almost 52.  I don't know the state of his health or what was going on in his life, but still.  When a person, who was young when you were young, dies of something that seems like an old age disease...well, it makes you think about your own mortality.

I'm so sorry for his family and friends, and for Luke himself.  I'm sure he had so much left to do.

When I heard the news, I literally had to take a seat.  The fact is, I'm not a young'un anymore, no matter what my mind or heart says.  Am I taking the best care of myself possible?  Eating the right things, exercising the right way?  Doing everything I can to prevent a heart attack, a stroke, cancer?  So much to think about.

And then something much less important happened yesterday, but it made me feel my age yet again. 

While out running errands, a woman approached me at the store.  I smiled at her, expecting something pleasant to come out of her mouth.  Nope.  I don't remember her exact words, but the general idea was that the jeans I was wearing were completely inappropriate for someone my age.  And she just thought I should know, since clearly no one else had told me.  Then she walked away.

I stared after her in surprise, unable to come up with a single thing to say.  Quick, witty retorts have never been my forte.

The apparently offensive jeans.

I like distressed jeans.  I think they're different and fun and this pair in particular is super comfy.  My initial reaction was to be upset and a little humiliated.  Was she right?  I found myself hurrying through the store, wondering if I looked silly, walking around in a trend that's probably intended for someone much younger than me.

But by the time I got back to my car, I was angry.  She was wrong.  And definitely not entitled to make me feel bad about myself, or judge me and my choices in jeans wear.

The death of Luke Perry and the clearly-not-up-on-the-latest-fashion woman at the store left me feeling my age this week.  Or maybe not.  How I live, in mind, body and heart, are really up to me.  I'll keep working towards being the best I can be, and the universe will decide if that's good enough.  

And no matter what, I'm never getting rid of these jeans.