If you ask me if I’m afraid of getting old, I’ll answer with a laugh, “Of course I am! I looked better in my twenties than I do now.”
But that has nothing to do with real fear. I saw a documentary about a psychologist to whom 25-year-old girls who noticed the first wrinkle on their face or gray hair on their head, made an appointment. This thought tormented them so much that they thought they were old women, refused to go on dates, much less have children.
It seemed to them that tomorrow they would wake up and their backs would not bend, their arms would not obey. Youth is gone, and anything beyond youth is not life. This is a serious diagnosis, a phobia, it must be treated.
All other women, of course, notice that time takes away their blush and freshness, but they do not throw tantrums.
All in good time, as it is said. There is a period when you listen to compliments from men, and then there is a period when your own children and grandchildren talk about how good your cooking is. You can’t equate the two.
The thought of a critical age approaching – 40, 50, 60 (everyone’s age varies), drives people to depression. What difference does it make how old you are?
You woke up in the morning, and that’s already joy. You should thank God for every day you live. If you are afraid of birthdays, then why live at all?