"Probably one of the biggest epiphanies I have reached as I get older centres around alcohol"

I HAVE begun to notice the feeling of getting older creeping into my psyche more and more.

We went over to friends recently for a barbecue, to make the best of a gloriously sunny afternoon, and instead of coming away with an impending hangover as per my more youthful years, I came away with some cuttings from a shrub in their garden.

In my defence, it was a beautiful shrub, a climbing blue potato vine. I was looking for some climbing plants for our back patio to cover a breeze block wall so it was the sensible and cost efficient thing to do.

It is perhaps evidence of my younger years being not too far removed from me at aged 38 that I have the arrogance of youthfulness to think I can actually successfully root some cuttings, my success to date has been limited, but suffice to say the cross-over from one era to another is never clear-cut.

I joke about reaching middle age, it is a nebulous term really, and while technically as per age definition I’m a little way off, what I really mean is that the feeling of getting older is setting in more assuredly of late.

It is with great reverence I grow older, placing so much joy in waking up healthy, happy and grateful for the day ahead, increasingly aware that time is precious. I think the summer really brings out the feeling of ageing when you have renewed appreciation for the sunshine and its simple but pleasurable ability to dry clothes.

Probably one of the biggest epiphanies I have reached as I get older centres around alcohol. I always enjoyed a glass of wine or a night out, but I think with age and a greater appreciation of not wasting time, I have pulled back a lot on what I drink. I won’t blame society on the whole for its attitude to drinking but perhaps for some of us it is easy get swept along in the tide of ‘having the craic’.

If I go on a night out now, I substitute every second gin and tonic with just tonic and every alcoholic drink is accompanied by copious amount of water. 

I have read a lot about people being ‘sober curious’ lately and it’s something I think I was doing without even realising there was a term for it. Sober curious describes people who are questioning how and why they drink alcohol, and examining their relationship with it and having a think about what is more important – alcohol or feeling good in its absence.

For me, it was a general shift in mindset, and perhaps with age too comes an inevitable change of lifestyle, with the inability to wake up feeling as fresh as I might have in my younger years after having a few drinks the night before. Now I place far more appreciation on feeling alert and energetic. I don’t wake up slowly, opening one eye to wonder about the state of my head, and my Saturdays and Sundays are endlessly more productive.

I see my husband doing it too, possibly without even recognising it himself, he is no longer as eager to meet friends in the pub on a bank holiday weekend, preferring a quiet night in so we can hit the road early for a day at the beach as a family, and he meets his friends playing soccer instead.

The other sign of ageing which caught me by surprise recently was a conversation my husband and I were having with a friend. We were talking to this man’s son about college (as if that wasn’t sign enough I’m getting old!) and my husband made a joke about my college days being 20 years ago – my initial reaction was indignation, but a dawning realisation crept in when I realised that he was, in fact, correct.

I was present throughout my twenties and thirties and, at times, it has flown by at a breakneck speed, but lately it feels like my body is ageing but my mind is firmly rooted in my late twenties.

Children can certainly make you feel your age too, the rate at which they adapt to new technology is astounding. My 11-year-old has very little access to technology, but will still go to take the phone out of my hand, assured that she can do whatever I wanted to do at a far quicker pace. And usually, she is not wrong.

They also speak to me in what I assume is code and not a different language altogether, using words and phrases that I have to get them to decipher for me so I understand the context.

Now if that’s not a sign that you’re reaching middle age ‘bruh’, I don’t know what is!