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Loving My Old Age

Yesterday's post made me think about the other side of ageing, which is really nice for me. While it comes with lots of aches, pains, limitations and worries, I like this part of my life better than any other that came before it. It's just me and my guy now, which means I don't have to take care of any other people anymore, a daily obligation I've had since I was eight years old that only ended a few years ago. Imagine spending most of your life as a caregiver without actually choosing to do so.

I still work at the best job I've ever had, and this particular job is the very best of all of those. I've ended my relationships with all the people who were toxic to me. I've come to terms with most of my own personal issues, and I'm still working on improving myself. I'm having a lot of fun with my textile art and just being myself. I even have friends who aren't using me for my connections (because I don't have any connections anymore!)

Why embrace my old age? Well, I really disliked being a child for too many reasons. Every school I was forced to attend was awful; so was spending three or four days a week in church. I've never accepted or believed in the religion I was taught; I just faked it until I could get away from my mom and all the other super religious people in the family. Also, back then adults didn't just hit kids, they beat them (and I have the scars to prove it.) As a helpless and powerless child I couldn't escape the hateful people who bullied and hurt me. Even if it meant living free of physical pain again, I'd never relive the first 17 years of my life.

People generally don't touch you when you're older (a huge relief for me, as that's my biggest phobia.) They don't scrutinize your appearance or care what you're doing. Mostly they ignore you because you're not someone who appeals to them for any reason. That's so wonderful.

My time is my own. I'll never be a great artist, but I am having fun with the things I make. I'm learning all the time because I have time to teach myself new things. I don't have to be beautiful or professional or even presentable. I'm writing this post in pajama shorts and my old University of Maine Black Bears shirt with the holes in it. Who cares? No one. :)

Image credit: Image by Engin Akyurt from Pixabay

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