I went back to school when my children were young and, as a result, I was older than many of my classmates. There were other women of my approximate age (I was in my late twenties) in my class and some of the youngsters referred to us as “Golden Girls” referring to a popular TV series at the time that portrayed four mature women–dare I say senior citizens–who shared a home.
Up until that time I had usually been the young one in any group I was in so it was a novelty to find myself part of the older group.
Last evening, trying to unwind from another hectic day, I sat knitting and watching old TV sitcoms when an an episode of the Golden Girls TV show came on. Rose, played by Betty White, had just lost her job and was lamenting the difficulty she would have finding another one because she was almost fifty-five years old.
Wait a minute! I’m almost fifty-five years old!
I was momentarily taken aback to realize that I am now the same age as the original Golden Girls. If you’ve read A Slice of Life Writing for any time at all you know that I embrace growing older and find these to be the best years of my life. But a Golden Girl?
Interesting, isn’t it, how our perception of ourselves doesn’t always match what the rest of the world sees–like when you see a photograph of yourself and cringe. (On a side note someone told me recently that I look twenty years younger in pictures taken when I’m with the grands. If that isn’t incentive to retire and get back there, I don’t know what is!)
The more I think about it, the more I can identify and embrace my golden state of being. Gold has long been considered one of the world’s most precious metals; I’m precious in the eyes of God. Gold is the most malleable (adaptable) and ductile (able to undergo a change of form without breaking) of all metals; I’ve certainly adapted and changed and, while I came close to breaking, I managed to change and grow and adapt instead.
A Golden Girl? You bet I am.