I don’t look my age.
I never have. At twenty-five I was still being ID’d. Now, people think I might be in my thirties but no-one thinks I am almost forty. I actually keep the grey in my hair so that I am taken seriously. Of course I don’t help by dressing in jeans and big jumpers, but I just don’t suit a suit. All I do is look crumpled.
When I was running the business and going to regular meetings I kept the grey hair to give me gravitas. I once dyed it out. And everyone looked over my head as if saying, ‘well, here’s the secretary, so where’s the boss?’ It was a nightmare. My mum sometimes gave me a hand with things due to my dyslexia and she was getting all the contacts whilst I fetched tea and coffee.
So the dye had to go. Now I don’t do the meetings but I still keep the grey. Not sure why. I think it might be due to the fact I am comfortable with my reflection.
So, am I young at heart? Well, I still twirl in the wind and laugh at the sun. I can ‘play’ for hours in the mud (planting) and I love making a mess in the kitchen. Sometimes, when it’s quiet I hear the tick of my clock, reminiscent of the death-watch beetle, but I ignore it. That is in fates hands and I can do little about it. Instead I live my life as happily as possible.
I still go the beach and run along the sands with my dog at my heels, and I still love to blare out music whilst I am writing. I love watching cartoons and I am a whovian. I wear clothes with film motifs on and I have a selection of t-shirts that cry out my allegiance to certain series, even if they are cancelled.
My favourite jumper is actually a hoodie based on the Firefly series.
So, I guess the answer is yes, I am young at heart, despite the grey hair. 🙂
This post was inspired by the daily prompt – young at heart.