Don’t Put Me In The Age Cage

Act your age. Dress your age. Expectations? Because it’s always been that way? Who decided? What does that even mean? 

Act your age – what age? How am I supposed to act. What does 56 acting look like?

Dress your age – what age? How am I supposed to dress and what does 56 dressing look like?

I’m 56. I have a crap ton of tattoos. I have a nose ring. I’m married. I have children. I have grandchildren. I wear Converse and have since high school. I wear jeans. I wear sleeveless shirts that I cut off and made holes in myself. I wear Doc Martens and have for years. I have long hair. It’s white. I own my own business and I swear – A LOT. 

I wear shorts. I wear sports bras. I wear clothes that maybe high schoolers wear. So what? Does that make me a bad person or does that make me something I shouldn’t be? Am I not acting my age or dressing my age? Does it fucking matter? Because, I’m  still not sure what that looks like. 

Who is society or social media to tell me how I should act or dress. And I still am trying to figure out what age of dress or what age of acting I should be. How do you know that or how do you feel that? Because someone told us? Because that’s the way it’s always been? 

Don’t put me in an age cage. I refuse to go there. I am living my life full speed. I am living my life and living in the now. Not whatever 56 is or is supposed to be. I just feel the way I feel and I just act the way I act. I’m not trying to be younger or act younger. I’m just me. This is me. Like me or don’t. The door to my age cage is always open. 

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