I'm almost 51 and I get it. Getting older isn't easy. I never thought I cared much about my looks, until I realized I only had a handful of "cute years" left. Little things get to me a bit, like being called "Ma'am" the first time.

That said, I've taken on a more defiant approach that coincides nicely with one of the unexpected gifts I received from mid-life, the realization that caring what others think of me is pointless because they're just not. So, I say fuck it! I wear what I want. I do what I want. If I want to go somewhere or do something, I go, if I don't I don't. Do I have all my shit together? Hell no! But then again, I ddin't have my shit together when I was 25 either. ;)