50.

Fifty years ago, I entered this world. My brother asked me on my birthday how it felt to be 50, and I replied, “Good.” It felt good for several reasons. One, I’d had the words of a bully moving around in my head when he said that he’d kill me or that I might get killed in a car accident. That, I wouldn’t wish on anybody, and one kid from school died in a single vehicle accident aged 20. I defied that bully.

Two, I felt like I was at a stage whereby I had more control over life. Yes, I have been able to have that since I was 18, in some ways to my parents’ disgust, but some of that was the fact that they would push me to play cricket and football with my brother even though I hated it, and if I was at university for long hours, that opportunity didn’t arise.

Three, well, it was an achievement reaching that stage.

At 50, do I feel anything negative? Well, not really. I’ve had people tell me that I don’t look 50 (I remember seeing an article “Robert Redford at 50”) and I subconsciously believe that the reason for that is that as I was 11 when I saw that article, the image of a 50-year-old is one that forms in your mind at that age. When you really are 50, you don’t necessarily look in the mirror to shave and see your father’s face, but you realize that 50 isn’t that old with life expectancy increasing. Okay, I haven’t ever smoked, and I haven’t had an alcoholic drink in 13 years, so they might be contributing factors, and I didn’t grow up in the sun, so my skin hasn’t aged as much. Yes, okay, I feel it in my body, but part of that was due to ankylosing spondylitis for my 21st Birthday. I feel older, but I also feel as though I don’t have to justify my choices to society if I’m abiding by the law.

So, rather than thinking, “Oh, goodness, I might have more yesterdays than tomorrows,” think, “How many things in the past have shaped the person I am today?” And remember, 50 and your 50s are a new chapter in your life.