"40 is the new 20"...
...that, my friends, is pure unmitigated bullshit.
I've been doing this 40 thing for almost six months now and let me tell ya, it's nothing like 20.
From a physical perspective...
At 20, I could eat an entire Domino's pizza in one sitting and not gain an ounce.
At 40, all I have to do is merely look at that pizza and my waistline expands.
At 20, I thought nothing of hopping on a bicycle to go 20 miles to the mall. Sometimes, I strapped 40 pounds of laundry to the back of the bike to "kill two birds with one stone".
At 40, I'm groaning if I forgot something upstairs and have to make an extra trip (Thank God for having a child I can send...)
At 20, once I found time to sleep, I slept soundly and well in to the afternoon.
At 40, I'm ready for bed before my daughter and once I'm there, I'm up every hour or so tossing and turning and feel compelled to be up before the birds. Don't ask me the reason, I really don't know.
At 20, I had a steel trap memory. I heard phone numbers once and commited them to memory. Social security numbers? I can still tell you my college boyfriends SS #, as well as the majority of my friends back then (remember, these were the days before identify theft...).
At 40, I'm lucky if I write down a phone number correctly the first time. 90% of the time, I transpose numbers.
At 20, I could eat whatever I wanted. I laughed at those "old folks" who were so concerned about their digestive system.
At 40, I am one of those "old folks" who picks and chooses what they'll eat because they don't want to spend hours in distress, popping pain killers, hugging heating pads and wishing I was 20 again...
At 20, I could party with the most determined of fraternity brothers. Beer bongs, shooters, shots galore - you name it, I did it. Party until 6AM, be showered and ready for class by 8AM.
At 40, two drinks and I'm asleep on the couch. Forget work the next day.
At 20, I laughed at "hot flashes"... what were those women complaining about? What's the big deal about heating up for a few minutes?
At 40, I want to campaign for changing that blasted terminology from "hot flash" to "burning bitch". "Flash" my ass. They aren't gone in a "flash"... sometimes, they last HOURS. It's hard to be positive, happy or even HUMAN when you're sweating so severely that you want to run naked through an ice house (I know, NOT a pretty visual). And forget sleeping during a "flash". I currently "sleep" with the A/C and two fans blowing on me and I'm still on fire. Sleep currently consists of those fleeting moments where I can tolerate a sheet touching me. I only wish it was the start of menapause, but I couldn't possibly be that lucky...
So, when you hear that 40 is the new 20, know it's not true. It's society's way of trying to get us to feel better about aging. Here's a clue... we've hit "middle age" and it's really downhill from here, at least from a physical perspective.
I'll admit that some things are better... I know at 40 that I'm secure financially whereas at 20, I had no freaking clue how I was going to survive after leaving the safety of the collegiate environment. At 40, I know who I am and where my priorities lie rather than depending on others to define who I am and what I'm worth, so that's a good thing. At 20, I had absolutely no clue, or desire to find one, about Gods purpose for me... at 40, I regret many of the stupid things I did whilst worshiping other things (and people). At 40, I have more focus (when I'm awake) and I have a beautiful daughter who keeps surprising me and making me prouder than I've ever been, or ever thought I would be.
But seriously, "hot flashes" need to be renamed. Seriously. SERIOUSLY