An odd thing happened this morning when I looked in the mirror, still half asleep and desperate for that first sip of coffee.
Overnight, a portion of my face had decided to revisit puberty, presenting me with an outrageous zit on my forehead.
Great � the perfect accessory for the outfit I'd picked out for my date Friday night.
And just like a high-schooler, I'll be fretting about it all day and tomorrow. (Thank god I have a teenager around, so there's always a ready supply of Clearasil and Oxy-10.)
It's amazing how certain things can bring us right back to the angst of adolescence.
Mostly, though, this fortysomething body is getting glimpses of the future. It ain't pretty, either. I'm more forgetful than ever, I often wake up with aches and stiffness (without even having the
pleasure of doing something
pleasurable to create those conditions ) and let's not forget the wrinkling and sagging in places that I didn't even know <em>could</em> wrinkle and sag.
But would I want to go back in time, back to my youth? Certainly not my teen years � once was enough! I had some wonderful times in my 20s and 30s, but they had their challenges, too. Truth be told, I like myself so much better now (except, of course, the aforementioned sagging, wrinkling, brain lapses and so on).
People often say they'd like to do that, but always with "knowing what I know now." I think we'd still make mistakes, just
different ones.
Would you want to go back in time, 5, 10, 20 years? Why?
Would it be to relive your life as it was, or would you want an entirely different life?
Kat Wilder's My So-called Midlife
