I’ve always been a bit old before my time….a ‘young fogey’ if you will. Although now it would be a ‘not so young fogey’. As a teen I’d opt for phrases like Gordon Bennett instead of the swear words my far cooler friends were using. I have also always been a bit frail on my limbs and partial to a good nap. With my obvious suitability when it comes to getting old you’d think I’d be fine with the passing of the years and the moving into new age brackets. In fact the opposite is true.

I’m now that age I used to think was ‘well old’ when I was a kid, yet I don’t feel any different. Well when I say I don’t feel any different, I am more achey and find it harder to get up from a low seat, but in my head I still have the same fears, and many of the same inclinations I had as a child. I never used to believe my mum when she would say that she’d get a fright when she looks at the mirror, having forgotten the age she has become. She says she still  feels so much that she felt when she was 20 or younger, but the reflection looking back at her is so shocking and saddening in its difference. She also used to always tell me how fast the years go as you get older. The years seem to pass in a breath these days so I can only summise that I am in fact quite old now. 

Remember when you were at school and the prospect of 6 weeks of summer holiday seemed so luxuriously long. Even though it flew by once it began, the month and a half break was littered with endless possibilites of adventure and fun (and a week of stressing when you realise you’ve left all your homwork to the last minute). These days if I’m told I have an event, festival, wedding (etc) in six weeks time I think of it as just around the corner. As I write this post I can’t believe I am enjoying 24 degree heat and that Summer has arrived…where has 2016 gone?!

I guess what irks me about getting old is the pace it seems to be happening, and the lack of pace the milestones I want to achieve seems to have. They just don’t match up, and this disparity it making me feel like I’m running out of time. It’s not a vanity thing, it’s not wrinkles and grey hairs I worry about….its experiences and the life tick list.

I’ve already missed all the age benchmarks I had as a kid in terms of career, property ladder, relationship, kids and so on, so I have this constant inner nagging that I need to catch up. Which is obviously impossible without a time machine. 

I know a lot of the reasons why I am behind are not my fault (health issues for example), but that doesn’t do anything to reduce the constant fear I have that I shall never get there. The industries myself and Si find ourselves in do nothing to help either, in fact we feel like we are constantly being reminded in some form or another that we are no spring chickens. 

Hugely competitive industries that rely on image or perception of who you are do nothing to make you feel comfortable with the ageing process. You have to see young newbies getting the opportunities you once did, or getting the same opportunities and just looking fresher and hipper while doing them. Si has to see newer bands rising up through the ranks, while I have to to be constantly reminded on YouTube that I am old enough to be the mother of many of the biggest creaters. 

Aaliyah used to sing that ‘Age Ain’t Nothin’ but a Number’, and as a fan I’d like to back up her lyrics. However, in the last few weeks when applying for work or when contributing to articles in magazine and papers I keep being asked my age. I can’t help but wonder whether a man would be asked the same, whether it would have the same impact if he was, and also whether it is truly necessary to know. 

Stressing about all of this is essentially pointless though. I’m just wasting time… the time that I argue is already slipping away too fast, so why don’t I just suck it up and get on with it. I can’t change it so lets just work with it. 

Okay, it is unlikely I am going to have a YouTube or Blogging audience that think I’m ‘goals’ or want to emulate me in any way. But perhaps I can find joy in a different role online. Maybe I could be that friend, older sister or even mother figure (ahhh god) you turn to online when ‘in real life’ people aren’t available or you don’t feel you can turn to them. You know, that YouTuber who has made all those growing up mistakes already, who you can learn from (and do things the opposite way). I think if I truly embrace this sort of position in the YouTube world I can find some peace and happiness with the stage of life I’m in. 

If I let my soul and life experience do the majority of my talking online then it won’t matter as my looks continue to wither and wilt. Yeah, I’ll keep doing some fashion and beauty posts for sure – as an art graduate I love playing with style and visuals – but I’ll let the core of me take presidence.

(Lets change the meaning of ‘old banger’…..banger….not rusty and clapped out, but absolute belter!!)








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