The Day I Stopped Looking 25

Can I see your ID please?
Why of course I thought as I smugly handed my ID to the lady at the register in our local grocery store. “I need to see her ID as well,” the lady pointed to my teenage daughter. “No you don’t, I said, that is my daughter.” The woman looked down at my ID, looked up at me, and had that typical look of confusion on her face that most people did when they realized I was almost 40.

I can remember when I moved into my first house in Charlotte. I recall the neighborhood whispers about why the babysitter was always there (me, I was the supposed babysitter), and where was the mother? And Halloween in that neighborhood, that was always a treat, no pun intended. I used to take my daughter trick or treating and the houses would give me candy too. I just started bringing my own bag so I could load up as well. I even remember being snubbed from some of the other moms because not only was I a younger mom, but a very young looking younger mom. Women can be so mean, even as adults.

But I continued to relish in the fact that even as I was in my mid and upper thirties, everywhere I went, people were just shocked at my age. If I was with my daughter, they always thought we were friends or sisters. As a teenager people told me that I would appreciate having a younger look when I got older, and they were right. I loved it. But what I wasn’t prepared for is how it would suddenly change.

It happened overnight
I recall that day, around age 43. I woke up that morning and thought, hmm, I look tired. I thought I slept ok, if ok equates to waking up every two hours, which was my norm, so it was ok. Well I guess everyone deserves a day. I remember I kept looking at myself all day wondering when my eyes were going to pop back to looking like their normal self. I liked my eyes, I thought they always looked bright and happy, but not that morning.

Days went by and I continued to assess my eye issue. Looking closer it wasn’t just that my eyes looked tired, there were lines there that I didn’t previously remember. And this kind of puffy thing that just wasn’t returning to normal. I was perplexed, and annoyed.

Days turned into weeks. I continued my daily assessment not understanding why I looked different, more tired, not as youthful or fresh. And then, I noticed my neck. Oh no, I’ve seen this happen on other women, it can’t be… And at that moment it dawned on me. OH MY GOODNESS, I DON’T LOOK 25 ANYMORE.

I don’t look 25 anymore.
When I say it happened overnight, I think it literally happened overnight. I mean of course there were years of adulting that transpired; stress, motherhood, careers, marriages, divorces, over 40 years of living. I guess it was about time that it showed.

And my clients, I swear they are the best. It’s like they can read my mind, or maybe my lines, and they always come through for me. Like this past Christmas, one of my clients gave me firming lotion as a present. I mean how perfect was that? So I’ve been drenching myself in it every day, and I think it actually works. But then another client of mine noticed I was wearing a new scent (the firming lotion) and asked me not to wear it on days I train her because it smelled strong. No problem. Day 1, 3 and 5, no lotion. Day 2, 4, 6 and 7, I drench myself in it.

But I’m Cathy Beasley, how could this happen to me?
I admit it, I’ve pretty much always had a lot of confidence. I mean this isn’t a bad thing. I have always gotten a kick out of looking so much younger than my age. I mean who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t want to get consistently mistaken for their daughter’s sister? Or who wouldn’t want to be ID’d everywhere they go. I mean, I’m Cathy Beasley, that’s just the way it is. Well guess what Cathy Beasley, those days are over. And you better get used to it because time doesn’t move backwards and you no longer look 25.

A new appreciation for age
I can genuinely say, I didn’t see it coming. In some naïve way I think I thought I was going to stay youthful looking forever. So now what? I mean there is botox, facial fillers, and other injectables that I’m not even familiar with that I know women get. But I’m not ready for that, and I don’t think I ever will be. There’s something about injecting stuff into my face that scares me, furthermore, it’s just not who I am. And trust me, I am in no way shape or form judging anyone for one second who does.  It is brutally hard to literally watch your youth disappear in a mirror and not be able to do a darn thing about it.

For me, its just my new normal. I will continue to push hard every day in the gym because that is what keeps me feeling young. From a real age perspective, I’m ten times stronger now than I was when I was 25. I have more wisdom, and a better sense of inner peace. I learned over the years to turn my expectations into appreciations and I have a new sense of calm. Age has taught me to respond instead of react, to not sweat the small stuff, and to smile at strangers. I don’t have all the answers, or really any. And at age 45, I don’t really care anymore either. Things I once thought were important, don’t even cross my mind.

I don’t look 25 anymore, I can’t deny it. And as I said in my first blog post ever, “I’m not apologizing for being fit”, the more we talk about getting older, and not being 25 anymore, the older we will feel. And I wholeheartedly believe that. Which is why day by day I will continue to do my thing; eat healthy, work on my fitness, take on new sports so I can stay mobile (love that I learned to ski three years ago), and accept that I’m in my in mid 40s, just a few years away from 50.

So every morning when I look in the mirror, yes I’m going to remember the youth of 25. Remembering that feeling of time being on my side. Remembering having a 3 year old daughter in my arms every day and night. Remembering how life seemed like it just started. Because how you think is how you feel, and that’s what keeps you young. I may never look 25 again, yet I will be grateful for the power that age is bringing me. I will not make aging my focus, rather I will get energy from what I have accomplished and what I still want to do. My time is just starting. And with that, I will continue to move forward with excitement for the next phase of my life.

Age 30 on left, age 44 on right. I am just getting started.

Age 30 on left, age 44 on right. I am just getting started.