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On the 5th of November I turned another year older.

I’m into my 50’s now and for the most part I don’t mind getting older, though I wish my knee didn’t hurt for no good reason and I wish I could still read itty bitty printing.

The only thing I dreaded were the ” now you’re old ” speeches and advice that people dish out when you hit the big 5-0. I’d heard a lot of this advice flying around me in the past, but it’s another kettle of fish when it comes straight at you and smacks you in the face.

My Dad’s Mother told me- when I was a teenager- that when a woman turned 50 she should cut her hair- yeah that wasn’t going to happen to this girl  being I was a huge fan of Ann Margret and my goal was to have long wild and wavy hair FOREVER.

My Grandma’s advice reflected a sad view on life.  If you’re past the breeding phase, it’s time to walk away from being considered pretty or sexy.

But she also  said that when a woman turned 50 she could wear red lipstick and diamonds  and if she wanted she could even swear – oh- and you could talk out of turn and tell dirty jokes.

So Grandma Ginger’s advice may have sounded a bit dated but she also passed on the side advice that when you turned 50 you could almost do whatever you wanted.

On the other hand when I did turn 50 my so enlightened women friends who should have known better- being that they used words like ” She-ro ” instead of Hero but oddly they also used  cutesy  words like ” Rapey ” and scolded men who used it too and  they were first in line to ride zip-lines and held jobs that our Mother’s generation could never had held because they had a vagina,  and  they scolded women for coloring their hair and not letting it go gray and told me that if you went to a restaurant alone or with other women you’d get a lousy table and the wait staff would ignore you.

Here’s the thing, my Grandmother passed on advice because that’s the world she lived in, but she had also found a way to skirt it and she passed that on too.

My modern day friends?

Gee ladies, I’m sorry if you feel like you became invisible when you turned 50 and maybe it was miserable for you, but it wasn’t for me.

My first thought when I hit  50 was,  ” Well. What next Anita Marie?”

And it’s been an adventure of sorts ever since.

So are you turning 50 soon?

Take my advice, do like I did and think of Ann Margret and her fabulous hair,  wear flashy makeup, learn some great jokes and if anyone tells you different, well.

Screw them.

Ann-Margret