You're only as old as you feel

You're only as old as you feel

"You look so young, I can’t believe it,” said a lady at the supermarket last week.

It was 8pm and I’d pulled another late session at the office and a glass of wine was just the relief I needed.

I handed over my driving licence before she even had the time to finish asking for it.

“1985,” she pondered. “Yup, 80s baby”. She proceeded to pack my bags while shaking her head and repeating “1985”.

I wasn’t a stranger to being ID’d, I pretty much pre-empt the question now, but it was her reaction to how old I was that took me by surprise.

Maybe it was because I wasn’t used to someone commenting on how “old” I was for once, when I usually have to deal with the “but you’re so young” reactions to finding out I have, y’know, cancer.

Luckily, I didn’t have to divulge that information to the supermarket checkout lady, as I was not in the mood.

But I think it was the thought of how old I FELT, compared to how young I apparently looked.

At that particular moment I probably felt like I’ve lived three lifetimes in one â€" not your typical 26-year-old anyway.

And although I was flattered by her reaction, I sighed. “Well I feel about 100” I told her. She looked pretty baffled. “Oh, but why?” she asked.

At this point I couldn’t fathom if she was genuinely interested or just making polite conversation.

But I had to think of something because I couldn’t floor this lady with tales of woe.

“Oh work, you know, it’s stressful sometimes”. She shrugged, gave me my change and I left.

But it got me thinking. I haven’t been fussed about what age I have turned for the past three birthdays since my diagnosis.

Why? Because age means nothing when you have a disease that will make sure you never reach the day when you need to dye your grey hairs. It’s a number.

But it’s how you feel that counts.

I was listening to Baz Luhrmann’s ‘Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)’ and these lines stood out: “Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked…”

Wise words.

And he’s right. We don’t appreciate our looks until they are gone.

And I won’t be in the position to “look back” and who knows, you might not either.

So isn’t it time we relished our looks now? The next time someone gasps at my age, I will smile sweetly.

And realise I need to chill and do something to make me feel my age.

So I went home and drank the bottle of wine! (That is, of course, not true but you get my drift).