I have nothing to prove...

Reaching a certain age seems to drive us to a particular activity or event or accomplishment. To my daughter,  turning 15 means she can drive. (Want to read about that?  Click here.). 16 means a first date...well, she hopes. 18 means leaving home. The 20's are full of excitement, new found freedoms, marriage, babies, vacations that you plan yourself unaccompanied by adults...because you're the adult. First house.  The 30's are busy. Figuring out which career ladder to climb, how many children to have, diapers...lots of diapers.  Really, I believe women are their most beautiful in their 30's.  The 40's brought some satisfaction.  "I have plenty of time". "Life is good."  No milestones to achieve just because I was 40.

Reaching a certain age also seems to require leaving certain things, or activities behind. A teenage girl leaves behind her dolls for nail polish, her DS for an IPhone. By my early 20's I stopped going out dancing and sharing a hotel room with 8 friends. I took my last aerobics class and started running.  In my 30's I left behind a couple silly childhood dreams (click here about that post). In my 40's I left behind some silly insecurities and a few more selfish attitudes.  I quit snow skiing...the risk of injury just wasn't worth the minutes of exhilaration. 

But what will 50 mean?  I've already said I'd like to ride 100 miles and do another half marathon.  Are those milestones because I'm turning 50?  I don't think so.  I don't have anything to prove.   What will I leave behind?  Is there anything I want to do before I CAN'T do it anymore?

Last week, my husband and I enjoyed a couple of beautiful days at the lake with some good friends.  We enjoyed great company, good food, beautiful weather...as well as a great bike ride and time out on the water.  Both my husband and our friend (who have already arrived at that mid-life milestone of 50) got out on the water and wake boarded and knee boarded.  I honestly don't know if they did it to prove they still could?  Or if they wanted the adrenaline rush of skipping across the top of the water at high speeds.  Whatever the reason, I was impressed.   Later that afternoon after our ride, we went back out on the boat to take a refreshing swim.  For a quick second, I hesitated.  Did I really want to jump in the water where I can't see the bottom?  Or am I just jumping in to prove that I still can.  And I realized something that probably a lot other 50 year old's have already realized.

Turning 50 doesn't mean I have anything to prove.  I want to be happy.  I want to be "good" with the right here right now.  I want to ride my bike, go for a run, jump in the lake because it's what I want to do, and not to prove that I'm not "old."   Anyone can just look at my face and my body and know my age.  I'm okay with that.  This is why I've spent the last 8 months blogging and finding a daily Sweet Fringe Benefit of my age.  I'm embracing the good, the sweet...and realizing the nasties of this age will come and go.  But I'm choosing to focus on the sfb.  Having nothing to prove is my Sweet Fringe Benefit today, and everyday.  

My 50's just may be a time of catchup.  A time to do things before I run out of time, but not to prove anything.  I'm actually looking forward to the next decade.  Not that I have a choice, right?   Like I've said before, I'd turn back time if I could.  Slow it down.  Make moments last.  But I can't.  So I will enjoy today.  Enjoy my adult children, my grandbabies, ushering my daughter in to adulthood, more time with my husband.  I see joy.  I see peace with who I have become and what my life has been...because the alternative is not how I want to live.

Outfit of the Day:  Loft tan cotton cardigan, Loft mustard linen t-shirt, Mossimo blue/blush print palazzo pants, Gap metallic braided belt, Vince Camuto wedges, Emaack Designs sunstone necklace.  I love these pants.  They're so light and comfortable. 

I'm going to re-read this post on days when the nasties of my age are overrunning the sfb's.  Good thing those days are few and far between...

Nanette