The life of a woman after forty is full of amazing discoveries. Much of what was important a couple of years ago loses all meaning for us. The really significant becomes what we had not even paid attention to before.
We suddenly understand that the suddenly appeared gray hairs is not an accident. Do you really have to regularly dye your hair? At this age, many have to admit that a stylish haircut looks better than the usual, but not particularly attractive horse tail. And by the way, pigtails also do not paint for some reason either. Strange. After all, it always seemed that the years would take their own only if we are talking about others, and we will always be young, fresh and without a single wrinkle ..
Our body is what it is now – this is the perfect. And there will be no other
A few years ago, it seemed to us that we had to try a bit, and we would finally, once and for all, would improve it: it would become the body of a dream and itself will grow legs from the ears. But not, it will not become! So the task of the next decades sounds a little less ambitious: we treat with us carefully and try to maintain the functionality longer. And we rejoice, we will play, we are playing that we are so far in the solid mind and relatively sound memory.
By the way, about memory. Very strange item. Most of her, her twisted by memories of youth appear. “I got divorced? And what was the reason? I suffered? I broke with several friends? And why?»No, if I strain, then, of course, I will remember and conclude that all the decisions were correct. But the insidious time has done its job. We are idealizing the past, it is pulled by a haze of charm, and for some reason there are only good memories on the surface. Behind the bad ones you need to go down to the special storage.
More recently, the sport was “for beauty”. Flat stomach, round priest – that was our goal. Alas, the law http://bohr-rath.at/leistungen/ of universal gravity, like love for sweets, turned out to be irresistible. It stretches to the ground, the stomach, on the contrary, is getting closer to the perfect shape of the ball. Well, if everything is so hopeless, then it would seem that you can say goodbye to sports. But no! Just now we have no choice left.
We already know from our own experience that without regular loads and stretch marks, headaches, aches in the back, crispy joints and other troubles await us
I would like to get out of bed in the next couple of decades, less often go on dates with doctors and have time to play with grandchildren who are not yet, but which we already expect with a mixture of horror and delight? Then forward, on yoga – in the pose of the dog with a face down. You can even get along if it is easier for you.
In the struggle between beauty and convenience, beauty unconditionally capitulated. Heels? An irritating skin with wool? Clothing does not breathe, it is inconvenient to get into the car or crawl with children on the floor? In her furnace. No casualties for the sake of beauty. Once my first mother-in-law was surprised to ask if I was tired of a day from the stilettos. I, in my youth, could not catch the meaning of the issue. Is it possible to get tired of heels?
But not even a couple of decades have passed since I got off the distance. It seems that I am ready for the role of mother -in -law: I am surprised to look at women who can move in heels at distances exceeding the throw from the seat of the car to the nearest stool. In the course – knitwear, cashmere, ugly uggs and orthopedic slippers.
The brand of clothing, the size and cleanliness of the stone, the color of the bag – in the color of something – all this has lost its meaning and meaning. Jewelry, rags that I put on today, and tomorrow I threw it away without regret, small handbags, the main function of which is not to aggravate osteochondrosis, and complete indifference to the trends of the season is what is now on the agenda.
I’m more than forty, and I know myself too good. So, if suddenly crazy fashion offers a silhouette or color that reveals the shortcomings of my appearance (and, according to my feelings, the fashion is doing this and the last couple of decades!), I easily ignore this trend.
It is after forty that we first seriously think about age -related aesthetic surgery and make a conscious decision
In my case, it sounds like this: and figs with it! We are simply starting to understand that it is impossible to defeat nature. All these tucked faces, unnatural noses and lips look funny and scary, and most importantly, they have not helped anyone linger in this world longer than planned. So why this self -deception?
I didn’t like something in my parents? We promised ourselves not to become like them? Ha ha twice. If we are honest with ourselves, then we can easily notice that all the seeds gave excellent shoots. We are the continuation of our parents, with all their shortcomings and advantages. Everything that we wanted to avoid imperceptibly blossomed with violent color. And not all of this is bad. And we even starts to like something. Alas or cheers, it is not yet clear.
Sex is quite present in our life. But at twenty it seemed that “old people over forty” were already standing one foot in the grave and did not engage in “this”. Plus, except for sex, new night pleasures appear. The husband did not snore tonight? That’s joy, here’s happiness!
Our friends become the beets and mother -in -law, and some are scary to think – grandparents and grandfathers
Among them there are even those who are younger than us! We look at them with mixed feelings. After all, these are them, our classmates! What grandmothers? What grandfathers? This is Lenka and Irka! This is Pashka, who is five years younger! The brain refuses to process this information and hides it in a chest with non -existent artifacts. There, where unlucking beauties are already stored, cakes, from which they lose weight, aliens from space, myelophone and time machine.
We notice that those rare men who still manage to like, in most cases younger than us. We calculate whether they are suitable for our sons. With relief we understand that no, but the tendency is alarming. It seems that in ten years they will nevertheless go to the group “Could be my son”. This prospect causes a fit of horror, but also indicates that the opposite sex is still entering the sphere of our interests. Well, glorious, well, thanks.
We are aware of the limb of any resource – time, effort, health, energy, faith and hope. Once we did not think about it at all. There was a feeling of infinity. It has passed, and the price of the error has increased. We cannot afford to invest in uninteresting activities, boring people, hopeless or destroying us relations. Values are defined, priorities are placed.
Therefore, in our life there are no random people left. Those who are, who are close in spirit, we are very appreciated. And we protect relationships and quickly recognize the gifts of fate in the form of new, wonderful meetings. But just as quickly, without regrets and hesitation, we cut off the husk.
And we also invest in children with inspiration – emotions, time, money
Literary addictions are changing. There are less and less interest in artistic fiction, more and more – in real biographies, history, fate of people and countries. We are looking for patterns, trying to realize the reasons. The history of our own family is becoming more important than ever, and we are bitterly aware that much is no longer recognized.
We again enter the period of light tears (the first was in childhood). The level of sentimentality over the years is growing imperceptibly and suddenly goes off scale. We drop tears of tenderness on children’s holidays, smear the remnants of cosmetics in the theater and cinema, crying, listening to music, and practically no call for help on the Internet leaves us indifferent.
The suffering eyes – children’s, senile, dog, cat, articles about violation of the rights of fellow citizens and dolphins, misfortune and illnesses of completely strangers – from all this we are bad, even physically. And we get a credit card again to transfer a little to charitable goals.
Health wishes have acquired relevance. Alas. From childhood we have heard toasts: “The main thing is health!”And even regularly something like that. But somehow formally. Without a light, without understanding what, in fact, is a question. Now our wishes of health to others are sincere and felt. Almost with tears in the eyes. Because now we know how important it is.
We are good at home. And good alone. In his youth, it seemed that all the most interesting was happening somewhere there, outside. Now everything is the most interesting inside. It turns out I like to be alone, and this is amazing. Perhaps the reason is that I have small children and this does not happen so often? But still it is unexpected. I think I’m drifting from extraversion to introversion. Interestingly, this is a stable trend or by the age of 70 I will love big companies again?