By Leigh Ann Hubbard

Middle age is shocking.

… in that it’s not what I thought it would be.

I’m 47. A few months ago, I had a body-quaking existential crisis. “I cannot be almost 50,” I thought, my adrenaline or cortisol or whatever that existential hormone is pumping. “I have miscalculated. I am 27. Or 37. This? Is not reality.”

It is mind-blowing to be the youngest person in the room all your life … and then not be.

It is mind-blowing to suddenly understand older people better … in ways you never imagined you could.

Ackshually …

When I first learned that a lot of senior living communities hang pictures of people’s younger selves outside their doors, I thought that was ageist. 

“We should not need photos of someone at 25 in order to see them as a full person,” I huffed.

Now, erm, so, I get it.

The “Other” Connection

We grow up in a culture that “others” people with wrinkles. Youth is ideal, and you’re told that the older you get, the worse it is.

Adulthood brings bills. Middle age brings boring, plus embarrassing crisis whyyyy??? Old age brings irrelevance. Ack.

But in youth, you are very special, see. You’re wide-eyed and smart and full of promise. “You’re too young to remember this, but …,” everybody says. “Ha ha ha!” You’re free and limitless and just adorable.

Then, out of the blue, a classmate you haven’t seen in years shows up on Facebook looking the age you thought your uncle was.

Dude.

Next thing you know, you see a teenybopper on TV, and “when did he get that old?” comes out of your mouth.

That is so ageist! You’re not ageist. No, no, no. See, you don’t mean any of this in a bad way.

It’s just that, if they’re that old … then … ohmygosh, you’re that old too. 

What … but …

Everything at Once

It’s not that being older is bad. (She says again.) It’s that you have to wrap your mind around it. It doesn’t feel like what you thought it would feel like! Actually, you never thought about how it would feel. It’s like trying to imagine what it will be like in 3035. Who knows? Now you’re here, and by golly, you’re not “other” to you. You’re still you! What is this insanity?

There’s a twist though! And I can only tell you the middle-aged twist because that’s how far I’ve gotten.

One day, you meet up with a friend you haven’t been in the same room with for years. You look into her eyes, and you see … the person you’ve always known. It’s like her 20-year-old self is standing right there. (Because, you realize, it is.)

She’s her older self — with the experience and heartbreaks and wisdom and triumphs and broken dreams and beautiful moments that come with that. She’s also the person you hung out with in your dorm room, where you took funny pictures and modeled your shiny silver pants that breathed exactly as well as Ross’s leather ones. (They were Y2K fabulous!)

And you realize, we’re all skeletons.

Dude, that’s morbid. 

I mean, on the outside, we change, but the same skeletons are still inside.

Do you maybe mean souls? 

Yeah, souls too, but skeletons are physical things you can see.

Would joint problems show up? Like, what about osteoporosis? 

I don’t — let’s move on.

You’ll Understand When You’re Older

I’ve always known this. But now I see it.

That woman over there with the walker? She’s not a “little old lady” who popped onto Earth that way, who we should treat with kid gloves and talk at differently.

She’s the 10-year-old whose mom worked in a factory during World War II when her dad was off fighting. 

She’s the 20-something who grew peas and tomatoes in the heat of the summer, put laundry on the line, and fed the rowdy kids.

She’s the age I am right now. She’s 60, 75, 90.

She’s every age she’s ever been, to paraphrase Madeleine L’Engle.

Getting older is one of those you-can’t-grasp-it-until-you’re-there things. That’s why I now understand the importance of putting young-face pictures on the wall. 

Because it’s not only the older people who are “other.” It’s the younger people! They other themselves from the continuity of the human experience — and it’s hard to help it.

If you’ve never watched yourself and your peers age, it’s difficult to realize that the old people in front of you are you.

For now, photos will have to do.