So life began yesterday - apparently

So, yesterday it happened. The day I'd been dreading for a while now. Something that only happens to other people - people who, from the moment it happens to them, become known as aunty, tietie, gogo or tannie.

Yes, I turned 40.

Image obtained here

Part of me was excited - I had heard that 40 was life-changing. In return for the newly-emerging grey hairs, rapidly-spreading age spots and impossible-to-disguise wrinkles, one is rewarded with a self-assuredness and confidence unprecedented, a devil-may-care attitude to the negative opinions of others and the thrill of knowing that life begins at 40.

So today, at 40 yrs + 1 day, I sat down by myself, preparing for a session of introspection - curious to discover whether any of these magnificent promises had miraculously come to pass on this birthday, which is meant to hold so much promise and magic.

 "Do I feel more confident or self-assured?" I asked myself. Hmm, how would I test this? Then it came to me - I clicked on the link for the magazine journalism course for which I so much want to register, but could never bring myself to do, for fear of failure. My cursor hovered over the 'Register here' button, but a tiny spark of bravery was cruelly snuffed out by my still-very-much-alive feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy. So much for self-assuredness and confidence unprecedented, I thought to myself dejectedly.

As for a devil-may-care attitude to the negative opinions of others, that didn't even require much thought. At 08:37 a.m. I had already spent time and energy obsessing over Aisha (3)'s teachers' opinions of me while we carried our child kicking and screaming into the daycare. "I don't care what any of you think," I muttered silently, trying to convince myself that this was indeed the case, while trying to avert my eyes from the stares from teachers and other parents.

All that was left was for me to consider the final thing which was promised to excited 40-year olds the world over - having the thrill of knowing that life begins at 40. But, sadly, that too had been a false promise, for - since yesterday morning - I have been obsessing about my will and the fact that I had not made any provision for frail care/aged care for my twilight years, which are looming threateningly close by. 

So what? No pay-off for the aching joints and deepening frown lines? I still remain as insecure and paranoid as ever?!!! I ran to the mirror - maybe this disappointing revelation meant that, since I was not experiencing the same character development and growth characteristic of other women of my age, perhaps I would be blessed by a physical regeneration instead. 

But, there they were, staring back at me - proudly; defiantly - fifteen grey hairs (and counting), age spots and fine lines - which, I have to admit, include laugh lines. Laugh lines, no doubt deepened by the antics of my four kids and quirky husband. Laugh lines, therefore, brought about by the people I love dearly. Lines, which serve to remind me of the blessings which the Almighty, through His Beneficence, has chosen to bestow upon me. 

And I realise that my physical 'flaws' related to the process of ageing are testament to a life well-lived; my badges of honour and a constant reminder of the blessings with which I have been showered. I should strive to remember this going forward.

Belieber FOMO

fomo  

Web definitions

Fear of missing out.

I remember as a teenager, I'd be sitting at home with my family feeling really disgruntled and moody. While my parents generally chalked my grumpiness down to 'hormones gone crazy', one particularly grumpy sunny Saturday afternoon my dad, who - as a high school teacher - was particularly insightful when it came to dealing with adolescents, laughingly said,

"Oh shame, you feel like everyone is having more fun than you right now, isn't it?" I scowled at him, annoyed that he was teasing me, but even more annoyed that he was right. Funnily enough, until he'd said that, I hadn't known what the reason was for my misery on these occasions. But he had hit the nail right on the head - I always felt that, no matter where or with whom I was, other people were always having a more fun and exciting time.

It was only when I found myself feeling like this one New Years eve - in the middle of Long Street in Town surrounded by hundreds of people - that I realised I was nuts. Surely my suspicion that somewhere else - other than where I was in the midst of a street party in the heart of town - was the actual place to be, was a sign that my mental health might not be what it should.

But that was then - in my foolish youth. My priorities and values changed over the years - very considerably so. So imagine my surprise this afternoon as I headed into town to pick up the girls from their respective schools, when some of these old feelings and insecurities came rushing back at me. The highway on which I was travelling converged with the adjacent one, resulting in 5 lanes as one enters town. The 3 right lanes were meant for traffic which would turn right - toward the V&A Waterfront, Sea Point and Green Point (where the stadium - and the venue for the Justin Bieber concert is situated). The 2 left lanes were meant for traffic heading straight into town.

Image obtained here

Although I left home early in anticipation of a huge traffic mess, I still found myself crawling along next to the Beliebers. Or that is how my twisted little mind kept taunting me. I became convinced that all these happy (or so they seemed - not that I could really see into their cars in the rain) people heading to the right were heading to the concert to watch the most amazing event ever! Nevermind that I am in no way interested in JB (although his music is quite cool [ yes, I keep up]. Nevermind that my adolescent kids are not even interested in him and that he is pretty much a non-issue in our home. Sitting in the car I felt a flood of old familiar insanity. "Now Zubeida,  it's very unlikely that the Fidelity Guard armoured truck next to you is heading to the concert, " I tried to reason with myself. "And over there in the blue car - those 2 people don't even look very happy - even if they are heading to the concert. And look - it's raining!!!!!!!!!!!!"

But then all I could picture was thousands of exhilarated Beliebers dancing around in the rain - with no cares or concerns - while I stood preparing 5 packed lunches for tomorrow.

So the feeling is all too familiar - that of FOMO - the paranoia back then being brought on by the rollercoaster of adolescent hormones, while this time around it is more likely the result of the dwindling oestrogen associated with the onset of menopause. 

So, along with the thousands of 12 year old girls who did not get tickets, I sit here overwhelmed by my FOMO, dreading tomorrow when the whole of Cape Town will be gushing about how amazing tonight was and how it was the best concert to be held at Green Point Stadium since Michael Jackson (not that there's any comparison, says the die-hard MJ fan in me).

But, seriously, I do hope that all the girls and boys (and my 31 year old sister in law) enjoy the concert. I know I certainly would have.