Bring on the grey hairs and laughter lines – getting older is great.
I’ve never been fearful of the aging process. It’s a privilege that many don’t get to enjoy.
And one of the best things about leaving adolescence and young adulthood behind is that you get to know yourself better.
These days, I’m less certain about my opinions and beliefs.
Rather than react with anger at being challenged on them, as I did when I was younger, I find myself more interested in interrogating the reasons I might be wrong, rather than stating all the ways I am surely right.
I’ve also learned patience and gratitude.
My daughter taught me both, as well as a bunch of other things; like what an epiglottis is and how to make the best cheese sauce (‘’just add ALL the cheese, mum!’’).
However, one of the less welcome discoveries was the realisation that I am a bit of a wimp.
Older wiser, and a little more afraid
As I’ve got older, I’ve become more fearful of… everything.
And it’s not just me.
Research shows that when we reach our 30s, we become less carefree and more aware of physical vulnerabilities.
When I was younger, I careered through life with reckless abandon.
Some of the decisions I made were stupid and dangerous and I’m often astonished that I made it out in one piece.
But at some point, my new-found sensibleness has morphed into something altogether unhelpful.
I can’t watch my seven year old eat grapes without issuing yet another warning about the dangers of choking.
I never cross the road without waiting for the green man and I don’t trust the judgement of one particular lollipop man at my daughter’s school who isn’t as diligent with the big stick as I think he should be.
Holding back – professionally and personally
Even when it comes to my job, I’m a total wuss.
I’ve been a columnist and a political commentator for a while now, but I still turn down most TV stuff I’m asked to do out of fear that I’ll crash and burn or accidentally drop the f-bomb.
I’ve been happily single for years.
And I like the space and freedom that comes with it but also – if I’m being totally honest – the idea of a relationship terrifies me because I’m scared of the disruption that comes with a broken heart.
petition to stop broadcasters sending journalists to dangerous locations to show just how bad the weather is
— Kirsty Strickland (@KirstyStricklan) February 18, 2022
I go through wee phases of pledging to be braver in all aspects of my life.
I even bought the famous self-help book Feel The Fear and Do It Anyway.
And I read it for a while before deciding that I didn’t want to feel the fear. Or do any of it, anyway, thank you very much.
Life demands repeated small acts of courage. You’ve got to be braver and bolder all the time.
Believing in yourself once isn’t enough. You’re expected to keep it up for a lifetime.
How exhausting.
Feel the fear and grab the wheel
On the whole, caution is no bad thing. But there’s one fear I am determined to overcome this year.
I’ve always been nervous about the prospect of starting driving lessons.
Not without good reason.
Most people who know me think I will be a terrible at it.
I have no sense of direction and I’m rubbish at taking instructions.
I put off lessons all through my teens and early twenties because I was too nervous to get behind the wheel that first time.
Then my dad died in a car crash through no fault of his own and that compounded the fear further.
The idea was shelved once again.
I read something once that said the older you are, the harder it is to learn to drive.
My beloved neighbour Maureen told me it was a piece of nonsense.
Maureen is always right and I always do as she tells me. So you can see the dilemma.
Have you taken driving lessons in the dark? 🚗 🌑
Our research with learner drivers showed that over 17% of them hadn't practised driving in the dark before taking their test.
Speak to your driving instructor about booking a driving lesson when it's dark ✔️ pic.twitter.com/ruABfHRZu9
— Driver & Vehicle Standards Agency (@DVSAgovuk) February 12, 2020
She learned to drive when she was in her fifties and she is one of the people who has been gently cajoling me to give it a go for the last few years.
My daughter is also part of the “BE BRAVE’’ brigade.
But that’s mostly because she likes the idea of us being able to drive to get a McFlurry whenever she wants.
Maybe the secret is knowing your limits
Another benefit of getting older is becoming more realistic about how much personal growth is possible.
Despite what the magazines tell us, there are limits to self-improvement.
Perfection – whatever that looks like – isn’t possible.
I’m never going to be a natural risk-taker or have the sociopathic levels of self-belief that the likes of Boris Johnson do.
Sky-diving ain’t gonna happen. I’ll always be a bit wary of grapes. And I’ll probably stay socially-distanced from silver-tongued boys for a little while yet.
But I could probably manage a driving lesson. They’ve got dual controls. What could possibly go wrong?
And if, after that first try, I’m as much of a disaster as I think I’ll be then I’ll keep the cash I’ve saved up for lessons and spend it on taxis instead.
But whatever happens, I’ll still get to enjoy the warm glow that comes from facing a fear.
One brave thing per year seems a sensible thing to aim for.
