Getting Older to Feel Younger
My brain-child on ageing
I’m being particularly self-indulgent this week, as today is my birthday. 36 years since I skidoo’d my way down the birth canal into this weird and wonderful world we call life.
Adults tend to have mixed responses to birthdays. Some love them, some loathe them, some dread them, some fear them. For the latter, they might bring up panic, regret or death anxiety. For the former (of which I am one) they mark a special occasion, a chance to feel seen, and an excuse to gather with those we love for bubbles and belly-laughs. An opportunity to regress back to childhood, in my case indulging that suppressed little girl who loves the special attention!
In truth, I love anyone’s birthday. I love that attention turned outward. To celebrate a person’s life in a way that acknowledges how completely unique and miraculous they are. To pay homage to the incredible moment in history that was our own birth.
But I get why not everyone feels this way. Emotions can be particularly heightened around birthdays. While Western society continues to purport such a negative view of ageing, birthdays can signify time (and therefore opportunity) slipping away. We want to imagine we’re in control of our lives, so we make plans, only to be crushed at the realisation that we haven’t achieved the career, family or salary that we’d earmarked for ourselves by the age of ‘X’.
However, the counter to that would be the positive side of ageing. The wealth of experiences, information and understanding that unlock a much greater freedom to enjoy our later years. We know that childhood liberation of expression gets lost or diluted as we go out into the world, stifled by social anxieties. The dance of environmental appropriateness, as we mould ourselves to fit the shape we deem safe. But with the experience of time, we can find our way back to Self, emerging the other side, to reclaim the zero-fucks mentality of living in the here and now.
So I personally welcome each advancing year. Advancing not only in age but in wisdom, compassion, understanding, and ultimately self-confidence, which brings us energetically closer, not further away from, the child we once were.
This year, as my inner child advances ever-further into consciousness, I’m reflecting on that little me, and wondering what she’d think if she could see me now.
Of course, she’d be thrilled to know that we live in London (how exciting!), in an apartment we adore (how grown up!), doing work we love, with both financial and creative freedom. She’d be delighted to hear of the incredible people we’d continue to meet, and the friendships that form along the way. I can just picture her now, jumping up and down on the bed, revelling in the knowledge that all her dreams will come true.
I’m not sure I’d tell her the scary stuff. The life lived at an emotional distance. The regime of rules and restriction. That her future does not involve pizza, or ice cream, or popcorn at the cinema, but rather the private mental wins of feeling ‘clean’ and ‘good’, and ultimately alone. I’d probably skip past my entire twenties, not detailing the internal prison of self-loathing and unavailability. Definitely not confessing that what could have been her healthiest years, she would spend being the most mentally ill. Better to give her the good stuff - let’s not bring her down on her birthday!
I’m sure if I were to detail her full story, aside from giving the poor kid nightmares, she’d be utterly baffled, and rightfully so. A world without chocolate would most certainly seem unfathomable. Pointless, in fact. She’d conclude it impossible that we were the same person, and likely take me under her wing. A broken doll for her teddy-bear hospital.
The experience and (ideally) the personal growth that comes with getting older allows us to reconnect with those younger parts of ourselves. Letting go of the social shackles and personal pressures we attach to our lives.
In turning 36, I’m taking the opportunity to rejoin my mini-me in her excitement, joy, and appetite for life. Prioritising play over discipline. Pleasure over pain. There’s a lot of youth that belongs in our latter living. We just have to remember who we were in the beginning.
So today is about her. Her emergence into the world. Her right to feel special. And her contribution to my future years.
As for me, I’ve got some great birthday wishes in mind, which is definitely going to require cake!
The Spin
Birthdays are a gift in themselves. A day to acknowledge life and living. Where we’ve come from, where we are now, and where we’re going next.
Our younger selves are almost certainly our most authentic self. Who we were before the rules and rigour of society got in the way.
It can be interesting to consider how much of our younger self is evident in who we are today. What comes through and what might (or might not) be suppressed.
Getting older allows us to get wiser. And getting wiser allows us to let go of what doesn’t serve us.
Adding More Weight
Why People Feel Sad on Their Birthdays
Letter to My Younger Self (Celebrity Archives)
Option to Go Deeper
Write a letter to your younger self.
Tell them what their future holds - what your journey so far has been. The ups and downs, the loves and losses. What does that bring up for you? Is it positive or negative? Consider how your younger self would feel and how they would respond.
I hope you're still finding time to dedicate to your 'mini me' and it wasn't just for the day! Your mini me was awesome!! ☺
Beautiful! Have the very happiest of birthdays Hannah 😊🎂