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I was fifty years old and until yesterday I still felt young. Our mothers seemed to be celebrating their fifties with fancy hairstyles and casual dresses when they were much older than us. I don’t have gray hair yet, I’m a little overweight, and I dress youthfully, so I occasionally fool someone who is younger than me. But when the deception comes to light, listen only to the fact that you couldn’t even think about it for so many years.
I have to get used to the fact that from now on I will not be a beautiful woman, but only a well-preserved woman. Despite the fact that my body is no longer so firm, my torso is no longer so thin, my legs are no longer so elegant, my face betrays my experience, until yesterday it seemed that there was still a longer way ahead than behind me .
But it was an optical trick.
Luke April / 15min photo / Lina Ever
Today, I feel like I have come out into the light of day, as if I have finally broken my mirror, and asked what is the most beautiful thing in the world. Now I can clearly see that I am halfway along a fast flowing mountain river and that I have to cross and start my journey to the other side again.
I like the metaphor of the river instead of the mountain, because it would be very sad to say that tomorrow it would start rolling downhill. No, I take off my shoes, lift my skirt, dive into the hot rocks in the sun for a while, and walk slowly toward the freezing water. I try not to scream, even though the current is strong, the stones under my plants are uneven and I’m a little worried if I can make it to the other shore. Yes, the fiftieth is not a celebration, but ice water.
I think the first stage of that journey was more spontaneous. We drive in a good car, we press the accelerator pedal sometimes all the way down, sometimes we go crazy, instinctively, without looking at the signs, trying to make up for lost time, shared feelings, driven by curiosity and the desire to see ASAP.
You go for fun, carrying in your backpack only what is most needed and everything you can bear.
We drove with the others, running cooler, whose car was faster, or whose crew was more beautiful, without checking the direction too much, and short stops were enough to regain strength. Even if we thought there might be another way or another to travel, we didn’t have time for them. When there is little to that frozen river, when the first warning signs appear, we slow down a bit, but it still seems that the road will not end.
And suddenly stop, fifty.
The brakes are on, the time to get out of the car, the time to get rid of the ballast, the time to think about where you want to go, because there is no road, no highway, just mountain trails across the river. Everyone is different. Winding, not easy, slow to overcome, it may require more strength, but how beautiful and with beautiful benches on the side of the road, so you can sit more often and look at that road. There is nothing to overlook, there is no need to catch up, there is no need to constantly urge yourself. You go for fun, carrying in your backpack only what is most needed and everything you can bear.
I am fifty years old, and women my age begin to hide their age as if it were something embarrassing. Although I do not intend to enjoy a beautiful number of years, an affected menopause or change the shape of the body, I do not intend to hide. When I think better, I’m pretty well prepared for the next stage of my life, because …
I am fifty and I firmly know what I want from life. Regardless of what society and community say, I know why I live the way I live and do what I think is right. I don’t like it when someone tries to tell me how I should behave and how I should feel. Or how it shouldn’t. And when someone says “I’m in your place …”, I get up and leave. I began to appreciate those who quietly shrugged without putting up positive thoughts, without explaining that I was unnecessarily concerned with melting glaciers or crossing forests. I thank those who respect my feelings and do not share advice without asking. When I feel lost in life, I open a book by the Dalai Lama or Father Stanislaus and there I always find that phrase that helps me travel further. It is strange, but the more I know myself, the less I want to advise others because I feel responsible for every word I say and I know that my experience does not have to adapt to other people.
Photo by Ugnė Neverbickaitė / Lina Ever
I am fifty years old, I eat meat, sugar, I tolerate gluten and dairy products, I don’t smoke, I don’t meditate, I don’t follow a diet, I don’t prepare a soft breakfast, I don’t do facial exercises, I don’t practice Buddhism, I don’t change, I can’t stop in a windsurf or a paddle board others for its uniqueness. I have never been to Turkey and I have never rested in a beautiful one all inclusive At the hotel, I never sailed on a cruise ship and had fun on a yacht and I don’t feel bad about it anymore. I know I won’t do much or learn more. But I still hope to climb the Alps, go to the penguins, learn Spanish, learn to dance tango halfway, go to the Camino. And I’ll probably think of everything else, because at fifty we finally have time to dream.
I thank those who respect my feelings and do not share advice without asking.
I am fifty years old and I learned to listen to the voice of my belly. Finally, I thought that I could not advise much more precisely neither a girlfriend, nor a spouse, nor a boss, nor influencers. All my big mistakes were only because I allowed others to speak louder than my belly.
I am fifty years old and have learned not to be angry with myself for minor or major transgressions, misplaced words, untapped opportunities, unearned money, lazy experiences, and wasted energy. I realized that living with Bridget Jones’ irony was so much easier and fun. And when you learn to forgive yourself, it is no longer difficult to look at others with forgiveness.
I am fifty years old and I no longer care about advertising creams or shampoos because I have long discovered what I like and like. I have come to terms with wrinkles that arise and I know that no cosmetic will stop the aging process no matter what their advertising slogans say. I also know that I will never do plastic surgery because a person’s exterior is just a shell and if my surface is important to someone, I don’t want to have anything to do with it.
I’m fifty and it doesn’t matter what clothes are in fashion now. Yes, I notice that those who managed to lie in the closet are now back on the podiums, but I have enough jeans, a floral skirt, a shirt and sneakers. I do not have favorites brands, his demonstration in Berlin is considered a bad tone signal anyway. I can’t stand secondhand clothing stores, but I’d love to hang out at blusturgs. All the costumes from my previous life are still with my mother in the closet and I woke them up when I came to the Book Fair.
Luke April / 15min photo / Presentation of Lina Ever’s book
I’m fifty years old and I’m glad I’m pretty healthy. I rediscovered running, walking, climbing mountains, trying more to be in nature to nourish the spirit and the body. I wash it with cold water in the morning, not to be enough, but to feel my life pulsing on it. I don’t try to love my body too much as it is required now, but I say that feeling much more sustainable than love is respect. I respect him, so I train like I train a beloved dog or horse. There are days when I feel frustrated with my body, when he does not listen to orders, he can no longer do what you ask, but if you respect me, forgive him immediately. And help him adapt to change.
I know for myself what I am worth, and I am a friend, a judge, a critic, and a loved one.
I am fifty years old and I am no longer affected by compliments or criticism. I know for myself what I am worth, and I am a friend, a judge, a critic, and a loved one. I no longer need to explain to anyone why I write books the way I do. The opinion of readers and critics is important to me, but it will not stop my future projects. I am interested in the opinion of the editors, but I know that I will write what the inner voice dictates. I’m not even scared anymore of what my main mom is reading about the sex scenes I’ve written.
I’m fifty and I’m glad my age is completely irrelevant to Berlin, and the rhythm of the city makes me forget to look at the clock and the calendar too. In this city, I learned to relax, spend Sundays with friends, go to exhibition openings, listen to electronic music, walk around the city for no purpose, visit uninvited events, enjoy casual conversations and I no longer bother growing up, collecting and preserve.
Photo by Lina Ever / Moments of the journey on the way of the artists. Lina with her husband Renat
I am fifty years old and I no longer try to please everyone. I can afford not to do things “out of courtesy”, not answer some of your letters, not writing texts because “you ask me kindly”, not going to a meeting that I really do not want, because I know that I will not like everyone and I will not like to disperse. I’m also not afraid to tell people when they hurt me. I no longer want to cover my smile with sharp, painful and mocking words, I no longer go back and stop, but I often take and ask why they behave this way.
I am fifty years old and I am glad that I still have a mother with whom we get along much better now than ever. I am also happy to have two children and I am still a young mother with a third. I still walk to parent meetings, help prepare the lessons, and read before bed about Karlson, who lives on the roof. I’m glad to have someone close with whom I can still speak honestly. I stopped demanding that he surprise me, entertain me, or bring gifts, but I am thankful to understand when I need to be alone. I am fifty years old and I know how to buy flowers myself.
I’m over fifty and have a time-tested circle of friends, but I’m equally happy with those life travelers who may not be around when I lie in bed, but who always have the time and desire to go to a concert or meet for a glass of wine in town. that you can hike and talk until morning. It still amazes me how close a person can get after a single trip together.
I am fifty years old and I am not afraid to admit that I am a believer and that I have received many small and great miracles from God.
I am fifty years old and I am not afraid to admit that I am a believer and that I have received many small and great miracles from God. That I walk to church on Sundays not because of a beautiful priest or illumination, but because I feel united, loved and cared for there, I fill it with light and gratitude, where I learn to forgive and let go, kneel and bow. There I remind myself not to stop and continue on the path of spirituality because it is very beautiful and brilliant.
I am fifty years old and I don’t always understand the world of Instagram and the desire of people to convey all their thoughts. I’m glad I grew up in a time when bragging was a sign of bad achievements, looking at another’s life through a keyhole was disrespectful, and displaying a naked body in public was a shame only for men of walk in the sunrise forest in raincoats. Only teachers could teach, only specialists could share advice, and only artists who had seen a lot could share the wisdom of life. Then we tell our pains to our friends only after the third glass of wine and we only strictly ask that they not tell anyone.
I am over fifty years old and I do not have to apologize for not reading news and bestsellers, but those books that I like, that I see not only Oscar-winning films, but also those that help me relax. I enjoy listening to the music of my youth, I memorize almost all the old songs by A. Mamontov, I have always heard Michael Jackson on the move and I can watch for the twentieth time OMG! or Dirty Dancing. (Well, still Gump forest.)
I am fifty years old, and I am no longer afraid to look stupid, I am not afraid to try something new, I am not afraid to admit that I am afraid. I let go of a fear and was proud of it, and the other tamed him so that he wouldn’t bother me, but rather be quietly close. Because they are also my part. Like all complexes, blows, bad habits without which it would not be me.
Fifty of me, and having repeated it so many times, has finally become completely terrifying.
Source: https://berlynodienorastis.blogspot.com/
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