Right within the core of my very self, I am beginning to feel the transition from old to new. The ruling power of my peripheral world is succumbing to a new system of leadership. This evolvement is apparent. The old is metaphorically the younger model of me and the new is my present self, branded with clarity, vision and… wisdom?

I often wish I could travel back in the metonymic time to make a twist and a turn to the event of my past life. This is what the coming of age does; it makes you revisit, review, realign and sometimes rewrite the story of your life.

I don’t think I know how to do old. For me, 50 is some 24 months away. Isn’t 50 the golden age where you settled down well into life’s soft cushions? Where the future’s red carpet had been rolled out for you and you’re to take a stride blowing kisses to the audience of your life left and right?

The Path Of Life

Every now and then, I dived into the past trying to figure out who I was. It is a bit difficult tailing down that young insecure woman that once lived in my body. A glimpse at some old photographs revealed what she looked like: Muted, unassuming, a pushover, voiceless, overtly obedient and a people pleaser.

The freshness of the youth usually stares back each time I look. The crow’s foot that graced my eyes now wasn’t there. The smiles were that of someone who depended wholly on others to determine her mood, happiness and the path to tread. The statements of that era dictated the life she lived.

The smile on her pretty face was for the camera. It didn’t reflect her state of mind. The person in the photos hid her pains so perfectly, she wore a smile she never meant and bore excruciating pain without a flicker.

A Decade And More

A decade and a bit more from that photo, with all the misses and near misses of the past, I think I can humbly say I am coming of age. Of course, I am older with telltale wrinkles and scattered grey along with mottled age spots on my once smooth skin. Of course, a lot of reformation happened.

For me, it took a while before I began settling down into my forties. I was made to believe that the 4th decade on earth held some magical keys to wisdom, freedom and contentment. However, mine wasn’t, it was stale, slated and unceremonial. I celebrated my 40th buried under massive workloads, living life on eggshells.

I felt a glimpse of light at 45. Tired of living on a rollercoaster of emotion, I sought help. I changed my mentality and opened up my lungs to take gulps of freshness around me. At 45, I began to question a lot of occurrences in my world, I viewed things with an eagle eye. It was a period where I pondered on and turned over some old stones. Undoubtedly, this was when I began judging with microscopic views.

This Version Of Me

In this present version, I wouldn’t say I have gained complete confidence. I am not even sure if I am wiser as the narration predicted. Certainly, my newly brewed dreams haven’t come to fruition nor achieved much, but I feel happy in my own skin.

I am beginning to own ME. This might be hard to put into words but I seem to know what I want now and who I want to be with me. The hustles and interests of past years all pointed to a direction I am now following. People’s opinions of me don’t sting as bad as they used to. I know who I am and I am gradually embracing that person.

The person I am now isn’t ready to accept what others impose on her. She has a voice and she is trying to be heard. In the past, she took things at face value, glitters for gold and colourful words for Genuity.

My mouth conveys what my heart has always concealed. If it hurts, I blurt it out, I no longer sweep it all under the proverbial carpet.

Emerging of Me

I am emerging out of the debris I spiralled. My free-falling plunge has taught me how to float, balance and navigate within the strong wind of the subastral realm. My company consist of people of interest, goals and purpose. I am taking my health more seriously. Fitness, wholesome food and spirituality are top of my priority.

I take each moment as if it might be my last. I savour every passing minute, making the most of it. My bucket list involves places to see and ponder. Travelling is my new passion.

In the same wing, my fashion sense also re-emerged. Not because I arrived last to the party nor is it due to the trend in vogue. No. Far from it. I do me now and my dress sense depicts my personal interpretation of modesty; it isn’t tailored to a sect nor ubiquitous in the fashion world.

For me, this is the full meaning of ageing: the coming of age. I wake up each morning expecting more of God’s favour; looking to achieve more not just shuffle the day out. Invariably, coming of age means much more, there is more to life despite the continuous nibbling at the rope of life and I am ready to explore it to the fullness given the opportunity.