Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Stop the clock
When did Leonardo Di Caprio become 37? He used to be a kid, a child actor? didn't he? What happened? I am no older, but somehow Leo is? I don't get it.
And he's looking older too. He used to be the quintessential "baby face". He looks, well, 37 now, don't you think?
I feel sorry for him. You see I haven't actually got older, nor do I look any older (cough).
Who am I kidding. I have reverse body dysmorphia, except it's age related instead. I think I look 35 but I actually look my age. Which is not 35.
Doesn't it give you a slap in the face when you realise that time isn't stopping for anyone, and all those Hollywood starlets who I used to sort of relate to because they were in my generation are suddenly the "hottest 60 year old" or "sexiest grandma" or "best 50 year old bikini bod" - like Demi Moore (or at least she used to until Ashton did the dirty and she refused to do normal stuff in life like eat).
Or worse, you see teenagers only a year or two older than yours, in the news for doing famous stuff. It's almost my kid's time to roar whereas I still think of them as my babies.
I overheard some boys talking about girls they liked yesterday. They must have thought I was a purvey old Stiflers Mum the way I stared at them. And if you're reading this boys, I was just trying to work out how old you were, because you didn't look much older than my eldest. I was just trying to work out how many more years he had to still play lego and make up army games or chase his friends with Nerf guns before he had to worry about that kind of stuff.
It's a big ol' reality check. Time isn't stopping. We are all ageing. We can't get back yesterday.
You know what I'm thinking. I don't need to say it.
I can't not.
Live your very best life.
Labels: Living your best life