You're only mid-life once

A couple of weeks ago I overheard someone say, ‘You’re only young once’. A well-used, but odd phrase, don’t you think, for aren’t we all each and every age just the once? In my 60s myself and still thinking on it a few days later I did a little research on the difference between ‘middle-age’, or ‘mid-life’ as its now often called, and old age (including the young-old and the old-old or elderly). On different websites I variously read that ‘mid-life’ is between 45 and 60 years old, ‘young-old’ is when we are aged 55-65, and old age begins at 60, no 66, or is it 70? The World Economic Forum (WEF) has recently defined old age through a new measure called ‘prospective age’ which looks at the average number of years people have left to live. So according to WEF, old age begins when people have an average of 15 more years left to live, which differs, not least, by gender and country, district even. In England (where I live) life expectancy at birth for men living in the most deprived areas is 74.1 years, compared with 83.5 years for men in the least deprived (a 9.4 year difference). For women the difference is slightly smaller at 7.7 years. Then there’s the difference between ‘lifespan’ and ‘healthspan’; which is the number of years we live compared to the number of years we live healthily.

In addition to ‘you’re only young once’ there are many, many other age related saying; ‘older and wiser’, ‘if only I had my time again’, ‘you’re as young as you feel/only as old as you feel’, all being particularly relevant to my ponderings here. As part of my age-related research I looked up quotes on old age, two of my favourites being:  

‘Old age is like anything else. To make a success of it you need to start young.’ (Theodore Roosevelt)

‘Women grow more radical with age. One day an army of grey haired women will quietly take over the earth.’ (Gloria Steinem)

In popular discourse the term mid-life is commonly associated with ‘crisis’; a time when individuals reflect on their age and mortality, past accomplishments (or not) and possible changes to lifestyle and activities in an attempt to recapture youthfulness. I’ve written about my own losses and achievements previously, including my sadness at having no biological children and my pleasure in an academic career which has enabled me not only to work with very many young people but to also research and write about issues (including pregnancy loss and childlessness) that I and others consider to be often misunderstood and misrepresented. I don’t recognise personally experiencing any ‘crisis’ although after a significant health dip following my mum’s death in 2012 (when I was 53) I have attempted to get fitter and live healthier. New possibilities never end. A few months ago a friend introduced me to a personal trainer, something I’ve never considered before. With some trepidation I signed up for a few sessions. Now, I wish I’d done this years ago. (Maybe I’ll write more on this another time).

I live alone (see On Being ‘Alone’ | ABCtales and Further Reflections on 'Being Alone' | ABCtales) but (I’m not sure why the but is needed) I have a full and happy social life with friends both off and online. Much of my time is spent on work (both paid and voluntary) which I enjoy and, at the moment at least, can never see ending. On her retirement, three of four years ago, a slightly older friend said to me; ‘You’ll never give up will you, you’ll work until you die?’ ‘Yes, I think so’, I replied. Not out of duty or dire financial need (although like most people I am feeling the impact of the current cost-of-living crisis) but because it’s interesting and fulfilling and makes me feel useful, valued and young(er).

Of course we never completely know how others see us and although I ‘don’t feel my age’ (a meaningless statement really given that because of physical and social variances we all experience age differently) I know that others will likely view me other than I perceive myself. It’s my birthday in less than two weeks. It’s what I recently saw someone on twitter describe as ‘the Beatles birthday’, You know; ‘Will you still need me, will you still feed me. When I’m …’  Last week I paid an unexpected visit to a friend’s house. On my arrival her five year old son, who is fascinated by everything numerical including dates and anniversaries, greeted me not with an ‘hello Auntie Gayle’ as usual but rather with ‘you’re not even 64 yet.’  Who cares whether I’m mid-life or young-old or just old, I’ll take that ‘even’.