If you're now 50, you are totally collectible. Make sure to keep your foot hole clean and your hair combed up.

Actually, Freaky, I look like Barbie -- I have that same 1958 ponytail, and my tiny feet are permanently bent so I can wear very high heels. I might put myself on eBay tonight!

Joan, I turned 50 two years ago, and it still stuns me. Who me, 50? In my mind, I'm eternally 32 or 36 (never in my 20s, as I'm as glad now to have finished that decade as I was then). I think it's all about attitude. I don't think 50 (except perhaps in terms of technology and "in" music). I'm lucky in that I'm around undergraduates and graduate students all the time. But I also don't have children, so I haven't had to go through the kinds of landmark changes that you have this year (I have friends, though, who have children who seem to have grown overnight--wasn't that 18 year old just 5 a couple of years ago?).

Yeah, that colonoscopy. Not fun. Neither is the rectal exam (sorry, but that's another turning 50 landmark).

But if you take care of your health and keep your attitude youthful, I think the 50s can simply be another step toward the person who you are--the core you. I wish I didn't have some of the aches I do, I wish bruises healed more easily, I wish I didn't have to think carefully before taking up a new sport. But that's all the body. It's not the mind.

And part of that positive attitude is being honest about your age. Who would want to date a man who doesn't want to date a woman in her 50s?!

Cultivate friends in their 30s and 40s, as well as friends in their 60s and 70s and beyond. We are all ageless at the core.

Welcome to the 50s!

Well, let me be one of the first on Open Salon to wish you a happy fifty, Joan. I am well past that age, and I can tell you truthfully that the best years of my life were over 50. I accomplished the most, was closest to my family, met my great love, and didn't look too decrepid at that. Anyway, you are a terrific role model for Nora and all women -- smart and kind and tough and feminine, and you combine work and single momdom so well. I'm sure like many of us, I joined salon because I admired the way salon works, and your strong opinions, stated with class. All the best, and hope you are only half way there.

My advice is: I turned 27 and stopped there!!

I am turning 58 this year. I didn't even pay attention to 50, it was the year my best friend died of breast cancer,my mother died within that year and then two weeks later my brother in law died, at age 58, after a ten year fight with leukemia. We moved from Monterey to Redwood City about six weeks later so my husband could work for a large architectural firm there.

I didn't notice much difference in me until about two years later. I had been on a wave of looking and feeling pretty much the same since I was 40. Then the skin tags started growing on the odd body part.

Since most of my family on my maternal side has either had a stroke or died of a heart attack between the ages of 54 and 68, I think I am better off remembering that each day is another day I can enjoy and perhaps say or do something that contributes something back to life for the gift it is today.

I no longer look like Barbie. If only the girls had been perky and plastic! Happy Birthday Month, because obviously, some years deserve the full tilt boogie!

I'm a few months ahead of you. I worry, too, about how I am perceived in the workplace. I like to believe that my years of experience, the knowledge and skills I have accumulated, are worth a great deal, but I'm less sure of that every day. How do young editors or managers recognize all that knowledge and skill? I'm amazed at how many times someone in their early 30s will argue with me about something that I was researching and writing about when they were in diapers. I know that doesn't always make you write--but it damn well means that people should at least do some homework before arguing with me.

The real irony is that I have written about--and even given lectures on--the multi-generational workplace. I always advised older people to listen to the young because they bring freshness and innovation. But I was always aware that the real problem, increasingly, is the lack of respect given to older workers and managers. It's probably no coincidence that a failure to learn the lessons of the past are a key element in our current economic meltdown. Too many people think we have little to learn from the past, or from the people who lived it.

On the other hand, smart people don't care how old you are, as long as you have something to offer--experience, charm, mutual interests, a good work ethic (I'm mixed business and pleasure in this list). So I wouldn't worry about it. Just be yourself.

Joan, I'm a man, and I'm 43 so I have no advice except to say: you look absolutely beautiful; and just think of all the things you can do now that you couldn't when you had to be a Mom taking care of her daughter. Talk about a lifetime of extended possibilities that's yours for the taking! Welcome to your new life.

Freudian slip? I meant "that doesn't always make you right." It well may make you "write."

I just got back from a weekend in Santa Fe, where I celebrated the 50th birthday of a very good friend. We also mourned the loss of another friend, who died last week at the age of 45, of ovarian cancer. So I'm inclined to be mellow on the topic of age just now, though generally my attitude is something like: embrace it fully, but do not go gentle! I agree with Laurie Lynn - lying about your age is going to net you men who have a casual relationship with the truth so for your own sanity and peace of mind, best not to go there.

The friends I have over 50 that seem happiest have one thing in common - they are very curious (as demonstrated through reading, traveling, broad age range of friends, cooking new stuff all the time), and this curiosity seems to give them energy to burn. Also, they avoid engaging in 'one downmanship' about their age -- you know what I mean, that "you think gray hair on your hoo ha is bad, you should see my cottage cheese ass!" For some reason humor in our culture gets a lowbrow laugh at mocking women for aging - probably b/c most of those shows are written and/or run by males, for males. It's fairly insidious - you have to make an effort not to 'go there' to be funny, b/c that kind of self-deprecation is like drinking someone else's Kool Aid.

It's great that you and your daughter have dinner in New York. Man. That makes me wistful - I've never had anything close to that sort of relationship with my mom. You two are lucky.

Well, we may not be "decrepit" over 50 but some of us forget how to spell it. A senior moment? :) You are shaking us up!

oops - and Happy Birthday!

Happy 50th from one of your zillions of open salon friends ;)

I think the last victory for feminists will be when women can look themselves in the mirror at 50 and think, "I look distinguished, smart, and sexy" instead of "I'm not as hot as I was at 20." Chin up, you're the editor in chief of a great magazine! And unless that photo has been edited in Photoshop a few too many times, you have a great smile and kind eyes. (My wife says, "What is she complaining about? She's gorgeous. Tell her to stop fishing for compliments.")

Happy belated birthday :) Thanks for doing all you do Joan! Besides, fifty is young. We are in and out of the nursing home every week for clinicals and 50 is just a baby!

Hi Joan:
I had been thinking that you would get a big Open Salon Happy Birthday salute while I was out on a four day cruise. So, I will say that I really meant to say "Happy Birthday" last week to you on your birthday -- Happy Belated!

There are two women in my office that turned 50 this year. Both of us actually agonized about the day -- the next day we realized that we were still pretty much the same person. It should have been obvious, but...

I cannot imagine you doing this, as I picture you full of life and vibrant, but I use my age to get out of doing things. For example, my cruise group demanded that we climb seven sets of stairs on the cruise ship when the elevators were jammed. I still had to do it, so trying to use my age didn't work, but it was fun to try.

I also blame misplacing my keys and anything else that I may do wrong on my advancing age. I tell everyone I am 50 -- I don't care! I never thought I would make it this far, and yet, here I am. I think women our age (no offense guys) have really done well to stay looking young. Consider our 50 b-day companions: Michelle Pfieffer, Andie MacDowell, Ellen Degeneres, Madonna -- all looking fine -- just like us, Joan! :)

We can get SOME senior discounts which I think is great -- AARP at my age -- go on! I use my senior discount at the Beall's Outlet store on Monday's to get home staging items for my listings -- great to have such savings just when I appreciate them the most.

Ummm...what else? I don't know, but remember your b-day is still fresh. Give it a little time and you will realize: You are looking fantastic and are at the top of your game -- you are great!

I have one question for you, Joan:

How do you FEEL? Not about turning 50, just how do you feel?
50 is nice, it's a perfectly edgy number with class and style. But it's just a number. I'm not far behind you, lady, and I am simply taking things one day at a time. There are "Kodak moments" in life (I don't want to call them "milestones" as it's too close to "millstones" for my liking) - celebrate them, that's what they're for.
Sounds like you and your daughter had a great time - so happy belated birthday, and keep the party going.

50 is the new 20! (At least that's what my friends and I tell each other.)

Okay, I'm perhaps the oldest to chime in. I turned 61 less than a month ago. Post-50 years have been my best. My daughter got old enough to allow me to be smart in her eyes and we resumed our wonderful relationship. My mother and I healed years of pushing and pulling and became friends. I found a man who is the love of my life.

I disagree that you should lie about your age. When people tell me they're going to do that, I ask which of their years are they willing to let go of? The difficult ones were instrumental in making you who you are as much as the wonderful ones. Treasure each of your years and be proud to be your age. There's nothing wrong with not using all of the features of your Blackberry.

The signs of maturity are more difficult to deal with for women, but each age spot and wrinkle is a reminder to me that at least I have lived long enough to have them. One of my dearest friends died as a result of breast cancer before she was 55. And guess what? When I stopped coloring my hair to cover the gray this year, no one noticed? One of the perks of being a blond!

Happy birthday and wishes for many more. And remember, as an old broad, you can pretty much say what you want and get away with it!

ACK! Should NOT lie about your age! Never!

Wow, thanks everyone. inchkachka, thank your wife for me -- I do sound like I'm fishing for compliments! I have a lot of wonderful friends and I appreciate the warmth I feel on Open enormously.

Sandra, I do know I'm lucky to have a daughter who wants to have dinner with me. In fact, our NY Salon team threw me a surprise party last week, and they invited Nora. The whole thing blew me away. Then my sister and best friend came out and we spent a wonderful weekend together, culminating in a party on Long Island with my cousins, aunts and uncles. So it was special and a birthday I'll always remember.

Lisa, I'm also aware of our great cohort -- Angela Bassett, too! Still, it's also the first birthday I found difficult. It's less about my looks and shallow things and more about, well, the rapid passage of time. I'm having to concentrate on being grateful, but that's ok -- and you all make it easier!

Fifty hit me like a ton of bricks, too. A good friend of mine died the same year. Those two events set a lot of things in motion. I became suddenly, acutely aware of time passing. Over the next year I made a lot of changes that had been a long time coming, including leaving my job. People said I was brave, but it felt like jumping into a warm river flowing downstream, just letting go of what isn’t really me. I'm 52 now, and still putting the pieces together, but every day is an adventure, my time is my own, and I wouldn't go back a day.
Specific advice:
--Is there is a gap between life you want to live and the life you are living? Start making the changes to narrow the gap now.
--What do you want to have done/seen/accomplished/contributed by the time you die? Start doing it now.
--Who do you love? Be sure they know it. Risk the odd phone call to an old friend. Life is short.
--I was going to say, throw yourself a party, but it looks like that's already happened :)
Recommended reading: Fifty on Fifty, by Bonnie Rubin. Stories and insights from a wide range of women about turning fifty.
Also, The Wisdom of Menopause by Christiane Northrup. Once you get past the title ;) there’s lots of good information there.

Happy Birthday, Joan! Thank you for everything you've done for Salon, and us, and the world. You are an important voice in a critical time, and an inspiration too. Raising a glass in your direction - cheers!

Still, it's also the first birthday I found difficult.

Me, too. That is what I was trying to say about our unhappy anticipation of the day.

Honestly, Joan, you have taken a battering this year. In your defense of Hillary, people were horrible to you. By extension, they were horrible to me and all women "of a certain age".

Truthfully, this whole election has been hard on women. If we are not shaken by our treatment as a group, I think we must have our head just a little bit buried in the sand...

I was rocked to my core (as I know you were) to see the public displays of fatefullness and sexism directed at Hillary. Now, we are dealing with the Republican's Faux Anti-Sexism while they set us up to be pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen. (Well, not us, but perhaps our daughters). It is just too much.

I think most women will feel better when the election is over and Sarah Palin goes back to obscurity in Alaska. I know I will be happy to put the focus on something else!

One last thing -- time does seem to be flying. I think part of it is we are ALL waiting to get this election behind us...I know I live for early November and that is sad because October is my very favorite month! Take care, things will get better soon -- I can feel it!

Sorry, I meant to type hatefulness toward Hillary.

Look at all the love, Joan; I daresay it wouldn't be as deep and wide if you'd just turned 30.

Here's my advice: do what you can to channel the spirit of the late, great James Brown. Say it Loud: I'm 50 and I'm Proud!

Now, bend over, sweetie...

I've told you this before, but I admire and respect you a lot. You comport yourself with more dignity and class than just about anyone. You also project a lot of confidence, what some people remark as seeming to be comfortable in your own skin. Of the persona you project online and on television, you embody many of the things I like most, in a woman or a man.

I know all of that sounds safe and PC, and maybe the last words you want to hear to describe you, as you turn 50, are "admired", "respected", "dignified", "classy". They all sound very matronly, which you are not. Actually, you remind me, in certain ways, of my little sister, who will always be, in my mind, about 25. Practical, unassuming, what-you-see-is what-you-get, tell-it-like-it-is, Busy-Gal Barbie.

You can keep doing what you're doing indefinitely, because it works for you. To be where you are in public life, you must be very driven, with your foot on the accelerator at all times.

This may be the danger for you, though, to continue gunning your engine. The challenge for you may be in finding it in yourself to just coast for awhile. And while I may be completely off the mark here, I think that challenging yourself means doing something very different from what got you this far, whatever that is.

I am certainly in no position to give advice on being 50. I haven't proven to be all that good at it so far, and I've had 2 years to work on it. But my best times have been when I've broken my routine to see or do something completely different.

Have fun. Stay as sweet as you are. You are very beautiful.

I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we all appreciate what you've done around here, too. It sounds like you have a lot to be proud of with respect to your family as well.

It sounds like it's time for us "young uns" to yield the letters section to the people who know what they're talking about -- that is, people who've seen 50. My grandmother -- who spends most of her time raising hell all over the town I grew up in -- always says, "Getting old ain't so great, but it sure beats the alternative. You gotta keep moving or they getcha." It's pretty much the same message my spouse sent (and Stellaa, too): thinking about your values and maybe making some changes would be great, but depressive rumination is a sign you need to get out and raise a ruckus.

Thanks inchkachka, but definitely DON'T yield the letters to the over-50 folks. I do think part of why I mostly don't fear getting older is I'm surrounded by so many smart young folks, who don't fit the stereotype either of slackers or know-it-alls, they're just great, and I learn from them every day.

Oh, and Rich sent me a Barbie site, and I found the Barbie I am, Freaky:

http://www.barbiecollector.com/showcase/product.aspx?id=1002083&t=vintage&t2=barbie&x=series&y=s150117&sort=name

That is seriously the first Barbie I ever owned, with that very bathing suit -- hot, hot, hot! She says she was born in 1959 but I don't believe her.

Finally!
Now your life can really begin. Have you figured out what you are going to accomplish? Think of how much smarter you are than you were a year ago, then multiply that by 30 or so. What an exciting prospect!

In some ways I reckon women have been their own worst enemies. So much depends on how we view ourselves. Men have always thought of themselves as studs and wise men regardless of their age. So why have women fallen off the radar in the past when they finally reached mentoring material?

When I was a teenager I used to blank older women. They simply didn't exist, sexy, smart, or anything else. But now they are so apparent; on TV shows, politicians, business leaders. I think we as a gender are finally starting to see our older selves in a positive way. Aren't we? Or am I dreaming?

Anyway I'm with you; I just lost a beautiful, smart, upbeat 51 year old sister-in-law. Though I'm a decade off the 50 mark, everyday I think it's a just a blessing to be here (well, not every day but a few of them!)

We are as old as our bodies, says my yoga teacher - though I'd say we are as old as our minds. Hail forth the three wise women... Goodness knows the world can do with them.

Happy Birthday Joan. I'm counting on you and the other 50+'ers here to tell me the second childhood begins in earnest at 50 :-)

Welcome to the club. In my short 52 years I have learned its not how long you live but how you squeeze the juice from each moment. We have all lost friends and loved ones whose lives were too short, for them and from them we must remember that each moment is a gift and that our self expression is a gift to all whom we touch, teach and love. You have gifted us all with this wonderful venue. For that hats off. Do not fear the first colonoscopy chances are you won't remember it. As for youth attachment to days gone by does not serve... joyously embrace each gray strand and wrinkle they have been well earned and remember aging is not for sissies...Stay Strong, stay aware ... Peace be with you and WRITE ON!

Shoot, that Barbie link got cut off, maybe this will work:

http://www.barbiecollector.com/showcase/product.aspx?id=1002083
&t=vintage&t2=barbie&x=series&y=s150117&sort=name

Put the top part of the URL in and then the bottom, no space.

Joan, oh yes, you're spot on. I have quite a few things to say about turning fifty and fun. It will have to wait until tomorrow...but it's an exciting list, so get excited. The fun is just beginning...

aww. Barbie is so cute. awww.
Barbie left 18 million cracks in the highest, hardest glass ceiling in Toys R Us. But it turns out the dolls of America aren't finished yet, and we can shatter that glass ceiling once and for all.

First, happy birthday!

Next, well, I did have a friend who turned fifty and got a tattoo ... hee hee not that I recommend it, unless you really want to do it. (The funny part is her father told her she'd regret it, as if she was a crazed teenager.)

I know I started thinking about getting pregnant when I was forty. Something made me realize having a child was something I really needed to do, and soon, obviously.

My only advice, because I think it's pretty obvious you're doing a great job with your life so far, is to keep moving forward and finding new things to do with yourself and your life. Keep pushing the envelope.

And if you have the legs, for Pete's sake, wear a mini-skirt! Those fug girls (gofugyourself.typepad.com) can't be right about everything.

Honestly, I'm sure you do all this already. So, you may put my advice in the round file, where it belongs. :)

I'd write a book if I were you. Think of all the interesting people you've met and the thing you've done.

Oops. I mean "things." I was laughing so hard at Freaky's comment about the Glass Barbie Ceiling that I mistyped.

Shattered glass better not get in my hair. And I'm not cleaning that mess up.

Dear Joan, turning 50 is no big deal. As my 93 year old grandfather would say: You ain't even got your tail feathers yet. I have a term that you may use if it helps. I refer to myself as a tribal elder now. I like that. I have a built in excuse for being crabby, cranky and cantankerous. That is empowering and liberating. I feel that these later years, I am older than you, are just frosting or the cherry on the sundae as I should have been gone long ago. Tribal elders need new creative hobbies. I have one I highly recommend. I get up early, we elders need little sleep, get showered, and dressed often in odd things like flip-flops with soaks, shorts and a tee shirt with a stupid comment on it. My current favorite is one with this on the front: My Anger Management Class Really Pisses Me Off . I get a mocha at just before eight am and drive around aimlessly and very slowly. You get much recognition by looking in the rear view mirror and seeing the reactions by young people heading to work or hustling to drop their kids off at school on time. This is good clean fun, Joan. If you want to go for the daily double head out again at a little after 5pm and get even more love. You can also trap unsuspecting people who actually have something to do and engage them in weird conversations and they have to listen! Hell, all of our lives we had wanted a captive audience. You can also get away with saying thing like this when people mention or tease you about being old" Well, It is true I am old but you forget I was once young. With your mouth you may never get old. You smile your elder grin and they are stumped. More fun.
One of our strengths is the fact that we have a huge storage of memories which we now have free rein to embellish. For example, I recently went from being a college baseball player to a minor league player which is much more impressive. When quizzed about your age you say stuff like- well I experienced mini-skirts, the dawning of the birth control pill and rock festivals which has neutralized awful things like karaoke nights and reality television shows. Welcome to elderness my friend. Embrace it- don't fight it. The only real downside I can see if the fact that we have to witness former movie and television stars hocking their various prescription drugs. I will close with sharing a recent elder moment.
I was at a conference with a couple of hundred workers in the mental health field, I work as a part time traveling counselor for adult schizophrenics, and we had to do one of these silly introductions to the group that I detest. I got up and introduced myself by saying. "Hi, I'm Blackie. I work with adults schizophrenics only in Region II. I am also maybe the last American male of my age, 58, who does not need any drugs to get amorous. My partner looked at me with horror but I just shrugged and used my elder status as an excuse. Again lots of fun.

I get very teary thinking about the 18 million cracks Barbie put in the glass ceiling with her tiny little head (and maybe those tiny bent feet?) But it makes me happy to think a hard-headed troll might be about to crack it open but good!

When I turned 50 I could tell myself that 50 was the new 30. Now at 55 years old, 55 feels like the new 80.

I started drawing a pension this year, for heaven's sake! Still working, but I'm a "pensioner" now. From my (long gone) years as a runner I have two knees competing for the honor of which one will receive a metal replacement first. I had my first cataract surgery this year, and now my right eye perceives the world through a tiny piece of plastic. It seems like I take more pills than an AIDS patient, and every time I go to the doctor he finds yet another blood value that needs to be regulated by some pill. I'm so old now that AARP finally stopped mailing me offers. They probably figure I'm dead.

The problem is that I feel like a young guy. I listen to heavy metal music and play guitar. I read a lot. I have a full head of shoulder-length hair without much gray. One of my coworkers recently said that I'm the most immature 55 year old that he knows, and I took that as a great compliment. I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to do when I grow up. I flirt with young chicks and they flirt back. (Young chicks now being in the 35 to 50 year old range.)

But I'm dragging around this damned, decrepit, decomposing body. Any day now I half expect that one of my arms will fall off while I'm crossing the street, and that will be SO embarrassing.

So congratulations on turning 50, but my recommendation to you is to go no further -- just stay 50. Either that or get some good health insurance. Best wishes.

Happy Birthday, Joan!

My advice: Do whatever the fuck you want! Somedays admit your age and other days don't you dare...confess at random times how little you know about certain technologies, at other times lie your face off about it- or at least just smile and nod.

Date a man from each generation (obviously starting in the last two years of their second decade) and don't spare us the details. Or do. Just keep doing it the Joan way because it's what led you to us, and isn't that what this is all about? That did not come out right.

But seriously, you're smart, beautiful, funny and working hard to make this a better planet. Keep having fun, keep writing tons and massive blessings on each and every inch of
your continueingly-new-wondrous life!!!

I have to say reading about you, Joan, and the comments from others here, made me think about the real, street-level issues of feminism. How women are treated in the workplace, how they are judged as mothers when pursuing their careers, dating after 30, 40, 50,etc., how they are portrayed and ignored after a certain age in Hollywood films and other popular media. The expectations of them as sexual beings.

What jumped out at me was the comment from your cousin about how men in their 70s can demand that a woman be in her 40s. That's insane. Who are these creeps? And the suggestion that you should have to lie about your age...it ought to be be infuriating to anyone. That an accomplished woman such as yourself is even subject to such silly advice, it's just plain sad.

Signed,

Arch-street-level-feminist Italian-Canadian Guy

I found turning 50 to be the most liberating time of my life -- and it just keeps getting better. (I'm 62.) My philosophy is, the older you get, the more sh*# you shed. You can be who you are, say what's on your mind -- you're more thoughtful, caring and have perspective. You know what's important (and what isn't) and begin to bring peace and calm to your life. Sure, life goes fast when you're on the down side of the hill, but the pain of the climb up fades as you finally enjoy the fruits of your labor.

Both my parents died in their early 60s and if I dwell on that history, I freak a bit. But the remedy is to be aware of goodness and not be dragged down by the not-so-good. Life is short -- a gift. Your 50 years have given you the grace to accept what is and embrace all you've become. Celebrate! It's a wonderful time of life.

When I look at the women I know best, and among them those who still do the "39" joke, they are either the most unhappy or the most shallow. The worst part (I'm older than you) is watching the body go, but there is something that can be done about it, and the older I get the more that becomes a priority. You're clearly a woman who has accompished a lot--and raising a child as a single parent can't have been easy without the support of your own parent. Is it true that what doesn't kill us makes us strong? I don't know, but I'll tell you if I ever find out. Happy B-Day Joan. I hope to meet you some day.

Happy (belated) Birthday!

We take so much for granted. Thank you for making take some time to think about what is precious and dear to me.

Happy birthday, Joan!
Hey, with so many of our baby boomer cohort, you are on the relatively young side.
I am fond of saying that, at my age, the fact that I am still having hot flashes is a sign of relative youth.
Like Mishima, I do not act or think my age. When I went back to college at your age, I was totally accepted by the young students in my Model United Nations club. In fact, I was the party advisor. It was worth the look on the hotel security guards' faces when I filed out with the youngsters from the room party they were busting!
Seriously, fifty begins a wonderful era for women. Enjoy!

Happy Birthday, Joan!

Just remember this: You don't get old bein' stupid!

Happy Birthday ;0) Regardless of age birthdays are better than the alternative.

Happy Birthday, Joan!

I'll be turning 50 in a few months, and admittedly I don't know how to feel about it. After all, is 50 really that old anymore? Mentally I feel about 30; physically, sometimes I feel about 70. So I suppose 50 is the age I should be.

My sister-in-law turned 60 two days ago, and she said that she still feels like she's in her thirties. She looks great, keeps busy and is one of the smartest women I know. I think I'll follow her lead, and let 50 be just another birthday.

And I agree with Julie - never lie about your age. I never have and I don't think I'll start now. What's the point? Personally, I'm pretty proud to have made it this far!

Joan, very bittersweet and tender stuff, turning 50 for us. The age perception, the empty nest syndrome, the impending fear that turning 60 is soon to follow and sometimes, the loneliness sets in if we allow it.
OR, we turn up the volume, kick up our heels, dance away the fears of aging and embrace the juicy, seasoned in vintage wine, lucious women we have become and love our life more than ever.
It's a good time, really good time. A time in which we actually get some time back to ourselves and make new friends, read more books, take up new hobbies and expand our world around us, seen more now, in new living colors and dimensions of gratitude.

Our mom was diagnosed with early onset ALZ at age 58, so we are not taking anything for granted as we approach and pass that age into the rapidly approaching 60's. Too close for comfort.

So, I say to you, girl friend, love the age you are, the life you see, hear and feel, pinch yourself everyday if you think you're getting older and remind yourself, you are getting better, wiser, more content, more beautiful more delusional!

"Life is but an illusion."

Just fantasize, smile a lot, be playful and rejoice this wonderful age at which you have arrived and in heels!
Our mom was diagnosed with early onset ALZ at 58.

Oops! There was an OS blip at the bottom of my comment! Not meant to repeat that sentence about my mom. It ended with, "and in heels!"

I am now 51 and when I turned 50 I rejoiced. For me 50 is the new 30. You look wonderful for 50. Embrace it. I felt like I found my true self and life became a wonderful, magical journey. HAPPY 50th !!

Joan (and anyone else interested), I devoted a special post on turning 50 JUST FOR YOU.

Here it is:

http://open.salon.com/content.php?cid=22341

Thanks for this article Joan. When I turned 50, my boss gave me a bottle of single malt and said congratulations on "being halfway there." You are in such a great position as I read your writing and listen to your comments on TV, at the top of your game I would think. So, don't stop. Keep going. I look forward to hearing from you as do many others I'm sure.

Also, after having read your blog on Salon, I thought I would comment here instead. John McCain's attempt to delay the debate is purely political. He will not show, then he will say they should use the VP debate time to make up for Friday's. Regrettably, his campaign does not want Gov Palin to debate. If this gambit doesn't work, they will use some other reason to cancel her participation. If I am correct, we progressives (at 58 I prefer liberal) should use her failure to debate as the most effective way to slam the door on a McCain presidency.

I turned 50 the other day. Beats the hell out of being dead.

Well, I will turn 51 mid-Oct. Here's what I'm starting to do. Take serious time away from everyone and everything that is stressful ..even if it's just 10 minutes. Don't let a day go by without at least one text msg. to your daughter (mine is in college too). Even if it's just "have a good day" or "goodnight". On the age thing, I don't think you should hide it. It's not just not authentic to obfuscate and you strike me as authentic. One final point, when you get a lot of advice from elevated minds who say you must read the Power of Now, or start meditating or try lymphatic massage-- if what really gives you peace is playing Coldplay on your ipod, then just do that.
A Belated Happy Birthday to you. And thank you for salon.com.

Hey Joan!
Here is something you already know - age does not define you. Or, if you wish, can you remember a time when you formed an opinion about someone because of their age? I appreciate you humanizing yourself for us and sharing the celebration and angst of having a 50th birthday. Been there, done that. Please accept my well wishes for you and know that I wish you many more Happy Birthdays!

I also want to take this opportunity to thank you for turning me on to Salon. A couple years ago or more, I was watching Chris Matthews and you were one of the panelists being interviewed. I immediately liked what I heard from you. I liked your insights, the way you thought and how you expressed yourself. So when Matthews wrapped up and thanked Joan Walsh from Salon, I rushed to my computer and Googled Salon. I read your posts and other’s and knew that I had found a group of like minded people. I immediately joined and hopefully have been a meaningful contributor. I regularly read and respond to your posts. Your writing is clear and concise and I am always impressed with your insights. In short, my experience with Salon has been in some ways life changing, providing me with new ideas and ways to think about things. It definitely has been cathartic to express in writing my thoughts and sometimes my rants. So, Joan though its your birthday, I want you to know that it is you who have given me the gift of Salon and now Open Salon. I really love the Open Salon community and its members! Thank you so much!!

Joan,
Happy Birthday. Enjoy the wisdom and fun of this new year. I know women of a certain age aren't supposed to say their age. I haven't been following that rule much either. It's how we feel and what we do, not a mere number that defines us. Celebrate you for being you and all the wisdom you have at this new time in your life.
Julie

Well, Joan, first a belated Happy Birthday! And just in case I turn incoherent in the middle of this, I want to say I've done a little visual post for you at my page (http://open.salon.com/content.php?cid=22371#post_comments) since that's how it goes with me some days... the verbal pert of my brain goes doink and have to switch to the visual half to express myself (good thing I've got this graphic design day job).

I had my one real age freakout at 29. Where had my 20s gone? My 30s were spent in denial, and my friends warned me as I approached 40: it'll be therapy time, my relationship will explode, I'll get mean and ornery and nasty. Well, 40 passed and I climbed out of my mental storm cellar to a not bad day. A little blustery, the clouds crowded the sun a bit, but mostly I felt a sort of falling away of all the things I realized were not me, and were never going to be me. And that felt quite liberating. My 40s have not been uneventful: my long-term relationship did blow up, because it turned out it had to, and I'm gradually coming to terms with my ex... learning to become friends again. I've got quite a different life now: married last July to a lovely lady who gave me a new perspective on myself and my place in the scheme of things. Here's one small example: once I realized I was too cowardly to ever go moutaineering with her (she wants to conquer the Grand Teton) I realized I had to find a new comfort level re. getting out and being physical (as opposed to remaining this awful subway-riding bookworm), so I bought a bike. Now we do the circuit in Central Park every once in a while, and I save train fare by riding to work along the beautiful Hudson. After a lifetime, this native New Yorker has drastically changed his relationship to his city. And my writer wife has given me the vote of confidence to try expanding my avenues of self-expression by encouraging my writing, so now I find myself in such wonderful company! Thanks, Joan, for OS.

As for advice: uh, I suppose it's never be afraid to change your mode of transportation. It can be better than chocolate!

Woops, sorry: it's http://open.salon.com/content.php?cid=22371 for my other HBD, Joan!

Happy Birthday, Joan. I turned 50 three years ago, and was so busy that summer I didn't have much time to think about how I felt. Things have slowed down a bit, and I have recently discovered that I am happier than ever, because all the bits of my personality and all my interests are finally hanging together in a coherent whole. My hair is gray, my son is married, my parents are aging, I've no savings, and I've started a new business. I've got meds for my brain, for the hot flashes, and for rheumatoid arthritis. I'm deaf as a doorknob and my eyes can't make up their mind what they want to do. But life is GREAT! From here on out, I just wanna know: What Happens Next? And that is what keeps me young at heart.

Don't ever let the focus be on yourself, but on the world around you, face each day with a child's wonder, because each day is a gift.

Happy but Insignificant Birthday.

Fifty is nothing. At that age, the Empress Livia and Catherine de Medici were just hitting their stride--and everyone else's.

Go girl.

I'm 38 and I can't even get the clock on the VCR to work, so if you have even vague knowledge of how to edit a video at 50, I think you're doing great.

Joan
A dear friend of mine and I were lamenting the "change of seasons" as I turned 50 (he is 3 years behind me). I told him I was making a list of things I wanted to do that year - there were 5 or 6 things. He suggested I make a list of 50 things and spend the year doing them. Best advice I ever got! It's not really easy to come up with that many things, but its a real learning (about yourself) experience.
I didn't finish the list, I am 55, but I've been through quite a few of them and I don't mind the fact that I am still working on them.
Try it! You will be surprised at the things that come up.
By the way, the best one was that my daughter turned 25 the same year. We celebrated together by jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.

Happy Birthday!

I am 53. My nest emptied when I was 50 and my response was to take up the sport of triathlon. I'm in my second full season and every time I race I'm faster and better than the last time. Getting better beats getting older by a long shot.

I'll turn 54 at the end of December. The rules in triathlon are that your race day age is the age you turn that year. That means that Jan 1, 2009 I age up to the 55 - 59 division and I have every intention of leveraging my youth to go kick some serious ass in my races next year.

Every day that I wake up and am capable of swimming and riding and running is a good day. No - it's a great day. There aren't enough positive things to be said about having good health so Happy Birthday and may you enjoy many, many more.

Joan - age isn't important. Cliché, but true. What is important is vitality.

Look around you at all the women in any public place. Do you notice the 50 year olds that look 60, or even the 50 year olds that look 50? They look tired, defeated. They look like the world trampled them and then stole their purse. Who knows why they have become shells of themselves. It is a very sad thing. They have no vitality; they are done, they are marking time until time is done.

Those women are not us. Perhaps our genes, our luck, or our personalities have saved us. Perhaps all of those things. Who knows? Now, true, I don't know you at all, but from what I see, and what I get from your writing is that you have that vitality which is part attitude and part passion for life. Once you lose that, then you are old. Then you are useless.

Never lie about your age. I love to tell people that I will be 48 in a few months. I love the "huh? look that is too spontaneous to be faked. I am grateful that I am not one of the defeated ones.

Happy 50th, Joan - I'm right behind you

Hi Joan:
I have lots of Barbies, older valuable ones like the babe above, at my house if you want to come play? :)
L

Joan, happy 50th. The other day I was talking to a good friend about Open Salon and he said he thought you were "hot". I will open a great bottle of wine in your honor this weekend. Best regards!

Hi Joan - 50 - I know! I'll be there in a few weeks. I had my trip to NYC birthday celebration last year at 49 so I could let this one pass quietly :-)

I haven't really given much thought to the number, but I am not the introspective type. As long as I can still do what my 36-year old mind feels like doing in my almost 50 year old body I'm not going to let it get to me.

You have great personal and professional accomplishments so far, with more to come. Have fun! And, maybe try dating a younger man if the opportunity arises :-)

Happy birthday belatedly!

Happy Belated B'Day Joan

Just think, with all the medical and science advances, you'll be writing the same post, 50-years from now, lamenting turning 100, looking the same (or younger), telling of taking your great-great-granddaughter off to college ...

Have a great 50th year!
Peace
JTD

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU. Stan Kenton.( AUDIO ONLY )

Wow, Joan. I feel like an old lady -- and I'm only 55!! When I turned 50 it felt like a huge milestone and I looked back and forward and felt incredibly grateful to have reached 50 having done the things I did by that age (spent 20 years in D.C. working for good things, recovered from a near-total mental meltdown, came to grips with my alcoholism, changed jobs too many times to count, just to name a few). I felt younger than I had ever felt, but so much smarter and wiser than I was at 20, or 30, or 40.

Your point about the over-50 women-hating thing that went on during this year's primaries struck a chord with me, too, and when I read this I realized this has really bothered me and affected my own outlook on being older - more than I thought it did! So, thanks for sharing this. It gave me a really profound personal insight into at least one of the reasons I've felt so shitty recently about myself, my life, my accomplishments, and how much I'm "worth". Now I'll do some mental/emotional recalibration to put myself back into the optimistic, enthusiastic, grateful self who's been hiding out!

And Happy Birthday! Dream big; live big.

Joan at 50, you are stunning looking woman. Age is in the mind and if you felt like a teenager at 30; you surely will feel like 21 at 50. Think of age, as only enjoying one’s youth longer. May you enjoy life until the end of time. Happy Birthday!

I have been denying it for months but according to the calendar I turn 50 on Sunday. I checked my birth certificate, had my mom submit to a polygraph test (it was inconclusive) and I was ready to cut my leg and start counting the rings when I decided that was too drastic even by my standards. The only explanation – I was caught in a time warp or a black hole or I somehow was able to travel through space and time at an altered speed. I remember just a few days ago wishing I was 12.5 until I turned 13 and then 13.5 until I turned 14 and so on. Could it have been 34 years ago when I got my driver’s license? It is somehow the year 2008 and I have been on this particular planet for almost 50 years. How could this have happened? I don’t drink or take drugs so I don’t think any mind altering substances were involved (plus I just submitted blood and urine to increase my life insurance so surely the tests would have come back with something if I were using). I have noticed that my hair isn’t as thick as it once was (unless you count the stuff growing in my ears) and my hair is a more noticeable grayish color. O.K., so that doesn’t prove anything. I still get up before 3AM each day and either run 3 miles or bike 14 miles before work 5 days a week. This surely is not the habit of an old man. As a matter of fact I have kept track of the miles since 1/1/07 (that should have been a clue that 2008 was coming soon) and I have covered a total of over 3000 miles in the last 20 months or so. Again, does this fit the pattern of an old person? Lastly, I still act as obnoxious and loud as I did many years ago (this could just be my personality and have nothing to do with age I guess). Where does this all leave me? I am not sure but I intend to find out. I think I will start out with some carbon dating and go from there. I also better get going on some of my long range plans because what is long range now? I am also going to start to look for the (hopefully) lifetime warranty on my various body parts and I might even ask my wife to look for any expiration dates on parts I can’t reach. I’ll let you know how this all turns out.

Joan, Belated Happy Birthday.

A friend of mine once told me that turning 50 gives you the right to freely speak your mind because you've earned it.

There is a wisdom and grace that comes with this age. It's that quality that so many of us love in women like the late Ann Richards, Molly Ivins and my fictional heroine Julia Sugarbaker.

I have a little over a year to go before turning 50 and I'm certainly not dreading it as much as I did turning 30.

I've always been told how much younger I look than my actual age, and I'll bet you suffer the same curse (if your lovely picture is any indication). Because imbedded in that comment is the inevitable . . . . "thank goodness" or "Lucky You!" Oy.

I think we do just have to plow forward and be grateful that we have experience and smarts and wit and hopefully the health and well-being that will enable us to keep those things honed.

Consider the alternative, after all! In any case, Happy, Happy Birthday!

Joan, I am turning 55 on Monday. In my 50th year my business failed, my marriage ended, and I was diagnosed with cancer. Helluva a trifecta huh?
No I am remarried, cancer free, gainfully employed, and very much looking forward to Tuesday night discounts at Ross.
I loved your piece and all I can say is that 50 is great, 55 is even better.

Turned 50 last year. Don't think mentally I've had a birthday since 34 though. Still like going to Hempfest (especially with Freaky Troll) and listening to dance music. So what if everyone else in the club thinks I'm there looking for my daughter? Learned what keeps you young is sometimes just being silly. Happy half century! And that's the way it is.

my coming birthday of 34 is making me fidgit in a way i never have before. it just keeps comin.

Happy Belated Birthday!
Its odd that I ran into your post today. My mom is about to turn 50 in a few hours..well, she is living in a different time-zone and so she already has. I don't know what turning 50 means to her, but I feel proud of her. She raised and put up with 2 pretty annoying kids and is really the glue of that holds our family together. She is someone who always was this strong liberal feminist mother who really made me see that there is no reason for me to believe that there are limits to what I achieve and barriers to what I can do, which was a huge deal when I was growing up in relatively conservative surroundings. We drive each other nuts when we are in the same room because we are such strong personalities, but I have a strong personality because of her.
I don't know why I'm sharing this with you. Maybe its coz my mom is also totally a barbie.

these inspiring comments are all well and fine, but what most women won't tell you is that the 50's absolutely suck. Why? Because you've just come out of your 40's; the most wonderful liberating decade of your life, that's why! You're strong, confident, know who you are, you're established in your career (or not) you long ago left the unnecessary behind and you look and feel better about yourself than you ever did - and what happens? You turn 50 and the rug gets pulled right out from under you, along with the sofa and the coffee table, and that big old hutch. Menopause changes everything. It puts you on a path that inevitably goes downhill- there is no amount of botox that can stop it, because the truth is, you've peaked. You read article after article about how "re-energized" you should feel now that you turned 50, you can easily guess other women's ages just by their skin tone, you suddenly notice all the models in More's Model Search are all in their early 40's. I could go on and on, but I don't want to depress you any further. running out of the room sobbing hysterically

Here's hoping your fever has passed (saw you were sick on your other blog), and 50 is looking a lot better a few days into it.

well my mom is in her 50's and feeling great, a little less energetic, but healthy nutrition, supplements and all have helped her hormone balance and she feels great!

My 101 year old grandmother lied about her age for years until she was “outed” in the newspaper at age 92. She was mad about it, too. I say don’t lie about your age. Grandma still has good health and lives on her own in her own house, too. She’s amazing and I wish she was proud of her age. One of the gifts that she has given me (besides good genes, I hope) is the idea that it is a waste of time to worry about your age.

One of my friends claims she always ADDS 10 years, saying she is 50 instead of 40, so whenever she tells people her “age”, they inevitably reply by saying, “You look so young!”

Denise, that's so funny, I have a friend -- she's on OS, so I won't out her -- who started saying she was 50 when she turned 40, and boy does she get a lot of compliments! Thanks, everybody, for these wonderful warm thoughts that continue to pour in. And Nancy Chase, I know where you're coming from, certainly we all have days like that, but they really do pass.

I really enjoyed yr honest look at life through the viewpoint of age.
To me, age is something that is a fact of life but you gotta start heading into directions that you have always considered to be 'old' before you really start to think of yourself as 'old'!!
I don't know how on earth I survived my mother's death (2006) but I've been having all sorts of realizations since that time.
I don't think it ever really occured to me, just how very difficult it is for people in general; the subject of loss is not something you would automatically THINK about very deeply; that is, until you have a loss yourself.
I have the viewpoint these days that I certainly had my turn at being a helpless baby; a sturdy dirt-eating child; a blushingly shy teenager, a savvy 20 something, a 'been there; done that' 30 something... and so on! ((( no I am not going to admit my age! LOL))) but I can say in all honesty; that for me anyway; this quote has become very significant
"Your health is your wealth" and so it is with aging; the process speeds up, or slows down ~ depending on how well you are!
Thank you too for adding me as 'friend'!!
Great post!
xx

I'm new to OS but not new to turning 50.

I did my 'turning' about 9 months ago and am looking forward in December and to the development and surprises of yet another year. Your post sounds very much like what I would have written at 40 or 45, when I was very unhappy with my life (work, family, friends, you name it, I was unhappy with it). It had nothing to do with appearance: I look back at my 45th birthday picture and I looked fabulous! But, internally I was an ugly mess.

Now, I frankly look much older-- heavier, rounder, no waist, jowly, all things that come from menopause-- but I am much more content. In fact I am happy. I have worked hard during the last 5 years to get to this place, and although this space is much too limited to describe my spiritual path to you, I can point you in the direction of some wonderful teachers that literally changed my life. They are the trio of Jungian, feminist writers: Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Jean Shinoda Bolen and Susan M. Tiberghien! I owe them a debt of gratitude. I hope you love them too!

I don't say The "F" Word.

When MY daughter left for college, I decided to have my twenties. I married at twenty-one (oh wasn't I soPHISticated) and skipped them at the biologically appropriate time.

I got the jist of things pretty quickly - well, I always was "bright" if an underachiever. And contrary to what I've read here I was *STUNNED* at the number of Baby Mansnacks who wished to slither around me (THANK YOU DEMI!) Unfortunately for me and fortunately, I found the fresh-faced just don't know how to Get The Job Done.

Of course, my daughter knows little of this. I'd say I'm at about, oh, twenty-eight now... searching for a cool, not TOO brown-nose sell-out way to spend my life.

happy birthday, joan.

i never have advice on this kinda stuff.

i think you're smart not to lie about your age. i must be the only gayguy on all of manhunt who doesn't lie. they'll only be disappointed later. but it's more about me. it's a lot like being in the closet: if you lie about being gay, or your age, or anything, every time you do it, you're quietly telling yourself you're ashamed of who or what you are. it's true, or the truth would be coming out of your mouth.

every homo knows how liberating it is to tell the truth, and then to gradually feel comfortable telling the truth. the lie is an insidious little dagger.

it seems to me age or religion or anything else you can hide about your identity all works the same. to say it out loud without flinching is to tell yourself you're fine with it. there are upsides and downsides to fifty, and i yam what i yam and proud of it and genuinely happy with it.

i think popeye got it right.

btw, mattel insists barbie is having her 50th ANNIVERSARY and not birthday next year. she does not age. they do not want a 67-year-old doll on their hands. (she was born 17.)

Happy belated birthday.

Every year my friends and I get together for what we call a geriatric pajama party. We've been doing it for over twenty years, through ups and downs, marriages, divorces, family problems, successes. We go back a long way- I've known one friend since the first day of first grade, another since the first day of high school. Each year, we talk and laugh and tease and, of course, save the world (you're welcome). Now, some of our daughters and daughters-in-law and their friends also attend, and we all connect on an ageless level. I don't think age means much, as long as we have a few people who know who we really are.

Hi Joan and Happy Belated Birthday,

I am going to pass on some advice I got when I was in my twenties. When I was in my twenties there were several older women that I really admired. They were caring and smart and involved with life on all levels. I was close enough to some of these woman to ask them some very personal questions and I knew they wouldn't be uncomfortable with me asking our relationships were that honest. I had the nerve to ask them how it feels to get older.. the common thread I got from them is that they just didn't think about it. They just kept going on. Age wasn't a focal point for them even though their lives and appearance had changed. These women were very aware of their appearance however not in a silly way. Because all were so involved in many things, they had good fashion sense and their style was their own, they were all well read, and traveled and involved with family, friends and community. They just kept going
on.... I have lived my own life on their model and it helped me to stay focused not on age but with life.

Happy 50th Joan. I turned 61 this July 4 and I'm still amazed that I have lasted this long. When I was in high school at St. Leo in Detroit in the early 60s, I remember telling a girl friend of mine that I could not imagine myself at 50. Oddly, when I reached 48 I nearly didn't make it. I have had very severe osteoarthritis developing since I was about 21. It started in my neck and eventually found its way to my lumbar spine. I knew in 1985 that I would need some kind of neck surgery but wanted to hold off as long as possible. Jump ahead to 1995 when I had my first of 5 on my neck. My spinal cord was so severely compressed at C7 that my doctor (a brilliant doctor named Cliff Douglas) told me that it was squeezed into the shape of an hourglass and that if I had jerked my neck in the shower, it would have severed. Jinkies!!! Well, my first surgery was traumatic but went okay. My second didn't take. My third was great until a guy tried to put a neck brace on me incorrectly and tore my recent fusions apart. My fourth surgery nearly killed me. My significant Other still says that she is amazed that I made it based on how close it was in the days post-op. I still have deep animus aimed at Michigan's ex-governor Engler for applying his Free Market Federalist beliefs to Michigan law that restricted the amount that could be recovered in such cases in the courts.
Anyway, sorry about the length here, but I wanted to share why I am a fellow traveler with you in your sentiments about surviving to your 50th. I also have a family history of those who did not make the long haul. I had an aunt and an uncle who die at 47 & 48 respectively. My maternal grandmother died at 52. My maternal grandfather died at 62. My brother at 64. My father made it to 75. The real champ was my mother who made it to 88.5.
So I know what it means to greet every day as extra innings (I'm a big baseball fan too!). I no longer have time for people who play games with me or waste time that could be put to good use whether that be in activity or relational growth.
Again, happy 50th and keep up the good worth. And I can give you my blog address if it is permitted.

On Turning Fifty
for Joan Walsh from Wendy Orange, written 15 long years ago:

When I first saw the huge stack of notebooks, endless small spiral ones with here and there an oversized black art book without lines, all having dates on the front page: March 5, 1967 or June 3, 1981, I was overjoyed. I noticed the handwriting was small, aesthetic and starting in 1969, very uniform. Before that I wrote with Bic pens and seemed to have no handwriting at all. In 1971 I discovered felt-tipped and by the 80's, extra-fine felt-tipped and the subtlety of my thinking seems reflected in this succession of pens. Somewhere in the late 1980's I began, for reasons obscure now, to use colored pencils and shortly after that, in 1992, the journals stop.
I find them in the last possible place, my old selves, hiding in my storage room. My friend Elizabeth lifts up the freshly carpeted stairs and says: "Here they are, you didn't lose them." I've finally found them I thought and my heart leaps. And then sinks. They look mildewed. They smell like rotting wood. Eliza, my nine year old, runs up and down the adjoining stairs as Elizabeth starts talking at me as she often does: nervous, not purposeful. While I'm in a mix of emotions at finally finding all these lost days and nights.
I'm opening any random page--for no day went unpaged-- 25 years day after day, dream after dream, sorting the seeds of love and desire. Six journals spent analyzing Manny Selya and then I lift the next one and can fast forward a few years or rewind to years before. It's all viscerally memorable, though the main characters often change.
Each journal speaks with intimacy and immediacy--of the way Michael La Fargue spoke through silence, frustrating me every morning by reading the fine print on the back of cereal boxes instead of talking over breakfast, on Inman Street, Cambridge MA, circa 1976. I find swatches of old lovemaking, a street lamp from West 102nd Street slipping its light under a half drawn window shade, landing, this yellow square of brightness, onto my breast as Allen Tobias licks me into erotic passion: February 24, 1969. I fall in love with Ken Gans in Riverside Park: June 3, 1976. I'm in a panic about losing my hair for weeks: 1979. I see the profound error at the core of psychoanalysis while smoking a joint late at night--April 18, 1969.
These specific moments of the past grip me as Eliza runs up and down the stairs playing vertical hop scotch. She’s still here in the summer of 1995, as Elizabeth is still talking even though I've dropped all appearances of being socially enabled.
I'm agog, aghast, astounded that I was once these characters: silky, sexual, always reading, always thinking for the sake of thinking and for the sake of my wounds which are everywhere apparent on these pages.
Thirty minutes into these journals and I overdose on my past. All those years collapse into a huge groan: "O, my God, what a wasted life" I say out loud a few times while Elizabeth, for a change, says nothing at all. I mumble again "What a waste!" which gives even Eliza pause. She stops jumping for a second on the thickly carpeted stairs.
`This is my life?' I think grimly, lifting 10-15 booklets out of hundreds of journals and Elizabeth drops back the stairs on the rest of them. Without reading any more, I pronounce judgement on the whole heap of days that was my life. I say to myself: she had a sickness, she was narcissistically wounded, she didn't find any cure through all that writing.
She, they--my younger selves--had painstakingly written all through those years: all the moods, memories, details and descriptions; surveying the many cities and towns. Writing from rooms that held friends and lovers, her work, her euphorias and failures. Recording arrivals and departures, detailing every sliver of a dream, each shard of nightmare, she--the journalist of her days--was always "in the midst of".
In the midst of: loving or trying to love. In the midst of sad or empty, confused or certain, active or passive--I watch while her hysterias and dullness rotate, as she’s reading philosophy or poetry or great literature, excerpts of which line the journals, adorn the covers.
She has recorded all this for me, for the woman reaching fifty, to reflect upon and remember. For wasn't I was her audience? Her mother and her daughter rolled all into one? I am that important and I turn away. Mildewed. That's all I can think. Diseased, narcissistic, hopeless, doomed, with those words I dismiss her.
And then, little by little, I start sneaking the journals from under the heavy stairs. They begin to spread around this Vermont bedroom, are spilling around my desk and chairs. I can't put them down. I find myself standing while reading, stunned by all I've lived through, feeling that I cannot get enough of her.
With less and less distaste, I begin to take her into my heart. I read for hours. Reading without identifying--taking in all the adventures and mishaps and worries of this character, a woman from ages 21-45: her innermost life and her attempts to participate in life. Notice how she uses whatever the culture offered: years of psychoanalysis --followed by years of archetypal psychology. Years of women's consciousness groups--years of Buddhist meditation; the decade of poetry followed by the decade of prose.
I read in chronology and not in chronology, taking her worries less literally than she did. And in the spaces and the pauses--spaces and pauses which she never allowed herself--I inadvertently give her the gift of reflection. And in turn she gives me the sweetest gift, a gift I've waiting a lifetime for, a gift I didn't know I was waiting for.
I feel it suddenly, a culmination of weeks of reading and remembering, feeling the positions of her successive bodies, the variety of rooms she wrote in. It surges up through the remembered places, the lamps and desks--they all come back, along with the views from the windows, the cats on her lap, the intense conversations.
It comes shining through the anxieties about living and the ideas about living with anxiety. For each episode recorded is a new struggle as well as a new idea about struggle. And what I’m left with, what these weeks bring forth in me, is a depth of empathy--what was always in the past reserved for the others, withheld from myself.
What do I achieve? A new perception-- of who I've been, and how I've been-- client in psychotherapy and then psychologist to others, child to my parents and parent to my child, inside the roller coaster of love, work, friendships-- feeling anxious or depressed, fascinated or bored, in passionate love or free-floating fear; seriously poor or suddenly richer. In Cambridge, MA., on Manhattan's Upper West Side, or in Jamaica, West Indies then Jerusalem, Israel. But wherever I lived the terrain I visited was evert nuance of my allotted experience: the sad funerals of my parents on Long Island, political euphoria in Jerusalem, poignant winter visits with dying grandparents in Florida--summers studying Carl Jung in Montagnola,, Switzerland; winter meditations in Boulder, Colorado.
And what I come to see as the constant is not the narcissism, but the striving toward the good. Not the mess, but the aim to clean up the mess. Not the failed relations, but the tenacity toward relations. And the atmosphere that all these journals create is this singular blessing: That I have earned my life and therefore, finally, have the right to live it.

I turned 50 in February. My overriding sentiment is this: I hope you live to 100...and I'm still around to be a pallbearer!!! Many happy returns.

You are merely a child to me because I am 72 years old.

It is time for you to go back to university, part time, to prepare for your retirement and read towards an enriched old age with a broader education.

Unless you are a gamer like my mother who played bridge until she was 91 . . .

First of all hi! This is my first posting.

Age is a funny thing. My wife has had to live with I'll never make it to age 30, and then age 40, then age 50. Now at 54 you know the rest.
After my kids graduated from college and I was in the clear, I decided that it was now my time. I was going to make time for "me" after years of being a parent. I started riding a motorcycle (no, I do not consider myself a biker) and doing things with my wife I had no time to do when we had the young ones were home.

At times I feel do feel old, but most of the time there is this mischvous boy in me that refuses to grow up!

Simply...lovely. Your cousin is wrong. No man worth having would spend ten seconds thinking about age.

Hi Joan Happy Birthday Jus remember it is the last one of the first 50. And the first year of the next 50. So if you enjoyed the first half century the second holds hope of really special things to come. Forget about vanity aging. If your body is still working remember "you only lose what you don't choose to use" Very briefly one of the greatest women I have ever met was 93 yrs young in 1987. I was interviewing some people preparing for a triathlon. As I was waiting for the event to start. This very nice looking lady came over and stood next to me in her sweatsuit. So we were chit-chatting talking about life and family. Then the announcer said for all the competitors to assemble for instructions. She politely excused herself went on to compete in the Triathlon. After recovering in shock I sought her out afterward she told me she had led a very interesting life. Her life was one of many milestones. Her philosophy was constant motion and insatiable curiosity. She was someone so very gracious special and giving always. I dedicated a poetic piece to her to always remember her by. maybe I will post it if you would like to read it..I moved away and lost touch with her but I will never forget her radiance. Judging by the number of posts here the next 50 for you will only be what ever you decide they can be. An Older Southern Bluesman once told me "Son to age is the best part of life..someone standing next to me asked him why he felt that way his reply was..cuz to no longer age means you don't need to worry no mo bout aging".. well it don't get no plainer than that..Happy Birthday!!

My big days comes June of 2009, I am not sure how I plan to celebrate it, but I am busy planning the next 25 years!

Look at all the love, Joan; I daresay it wouldn't be as deep and wide if you'd just turned 30 television.

Here's my advice: do what you can to channel the spirit of the late, great James Brown. Say it Loud: I'm 50 and I'm Proud!