Posted by / Category Cultural Differences /

Me, 42. Picture by Alejandra Moral & make-up/hair by Anastasia Parquet

As much as I try to deny it, I am turning 42 by the end of the year. Sigh. The thing is, I feel 15 in my head. And I have never felt better. But the sad reality is that, just like everybody else, I am not getting any younger. My energy levels are not the same: after a  couple of weeks spent caring for the whole family and the business while hubby is away, I am knackered. The good news is that I look less like a monkey because of Jasmin, the lovely lady who threaded my growing moustache and shaped my thick eyebrows. But the bags under my eyes seem to be here to stay, and it doesn’t feel good. And who said acne is just for teenagers? I seem to have started a competition with my older daughter on that one –she is actually better than me at covering the pimples with foundation. Damn it-. To make matters even worse, I used to be able to eat whatever I wanted without putting on weight. Well, not any more. And the last time I had a haircut, we removed 25 grey hairs. Against only two not so long ago. Life is cruel. And it keeps getting worse. Seriously, why?

It is time to face the music: I need to upgrade my maintenance regime. But is it really worth it? Should I try to fight the ageing process or just embrace it, and not care about the way I look? I sometimes wonder. What is the point of going to the gym more often, of making sure that I stick to the right diet, and spend forever at the hair salon? I will get older anyway. In short, it is a fight that I am bound to lose. So why bother? Why am I so vain? Well, maybe because I am French. So here it is: I won’t give up. The best is yet to come. And to prove my point, I seem to be spending my time doing photo shoots and castings…I can’t tell you more, it is all hush hush at this stage, but watch this space.

The thing is, I know that I have to be careful. There is a tsunami of divorces amongst my friends, and I would like to remain happily married as long as possible. Which probably means that I have to make an effort (So unjust: men look sexier and more mature with grey hair, women just look older. That said, all this running has paid off, my tummy is much, much flatter than before, and I feel great).

Guys are so lucky: do you know how much it hurts to wax your legs, underarms and…the rest? Do you really?  We women all pretend that it is fine, and we are used to it but it doesn’t make it a nice experience, just a very common one.

So here it is: I am a fighter and will not let myself get defeated by a silly number. No matter what. Things will continue to get better. I will never be a has-been, and always a will-be. Because that’s the way it is. Just like good wine, I seem to get better with age.
And that’s what I will keep telling myself. What about you, how to you cope with getting older?
Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London