Megan's Head

A place where Megan gets off her head.

Random and rambling thoughts on turning 50

Preparing for this ‘milestone’ birthday has been weird. The most resounding feeling I have is one of ‘having made it this far’. I do feel, when I look over my shoulder at my past, that I could never, ever have imagined ending up here: That I would get to see what fifty looks like from this side.

When I realised I was the same age as the Fleur du Cap theatre awards I got searingly drunk. It sounds so ancient. I decided on the most immature shoes for a group birthday present to compensate. I want to shout from the rooftops, “I still feel 19!”, just like my granny Sophie would say, every birthday, “I don’t feel a day over sixteen.”

But then there are the funny little things. I get upset and outraged when I see schoolkids in their uniforms, smoking. Sis, I think. Don’t they know how terrible that is? But I was that kid. I was exactly that kid. And my reaction is so old womanish.

My friend Justin gave me some photos yesterday; ones he had taken a good few years ago. I was struck by how gorgeous and young we had been, and then I remembered how I felt about myself at the time. It was the same as now. What a waste of goodlookingness.

I remember when my friend, whose birthday is a day before mine although she is 10 years older, turned 40. I was surprised. Then, when she turned 50 I was shocked. And tomorrow she turns 60. It is outrageous.

All those things happen. Years get progressively shorter the longer we are alive. I think my memory is shot, along with my eyes. I can’t go anywhere without my readers. What a terrible word, readers.

And yet, I feel like the terrible, rebellious, outrageous young person I have always been. I still shout. I still have actual fights with people. I still voice my opinion loudly and resolutely, even though most children in Woodstock probably think of me as ‘daai mal ou tannie from number 14’.

What a journey. What an amazing time to force friends and family to do something hard, and amazing and celebratory with me. I am honoured to be alive in your presence. You are all my chosens.

Previous

Theatre Error

Next

From Melbourne to NYC

1 Comment

  1. sandi

    I look at my over-fifty girlfriends and see how much more beautiful they’ve become. We’re wiser, more in touch with our emotions, more in touch with everyone else’s emotions, and with the exception of the OH MY GOD THERE’S A CHIN HAIR, fifty is bloody fabulous.

Leave a Reply

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén