Dear Younger Self, I Am Now the Old People We Criticized

A Friday night confession, written from bed.

Dear younger self, I am now the old people we criticized.

I know. I’m sorry. Sit down, because it gets worse.

The bar

Remember how we hunted for excuses to go to the bar at university? Newcastle United won a football match? Reason to drink. Some random kids we’ve never met graduated today? Yeii, let’s go! We were never short of a reason.

These days I need reasons not to go. It’s cold. It’s noisy. I’ve already changed into comfortable clothes. And honestly, my body can’t take that much alcohol anymore.

My perfect Friday evening is a quiet movie that I will abandon halfway through. I sleep through every explosion and plot twist, then wake up on my own the moment the actors’ names start rolling. 😂 The bar? In the cold? Why?

The music

Dear younger self, I am now the old people we criticized. I no longer follow music trends. My car playlist is permanently stuck in the old school: Westlife, Celine Dion, Luther Vandross.

South Africa’s Amapiano is mostly beats, with a few words repeated on loop. What happened to soul? I said that out loud and heard my mother’s voice.

It’s not that I’m completely cut off. I hear about Sabrina Carpenter from social media and my nieces and nephews. But I could not name one of her songs to save my life.

And when a musician announces a tour, I now have to google him to understand why people are screaming. That was never on my bingo card.

The plans I don’t want to keep

Two weeks ago, I made plans to hang out with friends. Today I’m hunting for an excuse while I bed rot with a packet of chips. (That’s exactly what I was doing when I wrote this article this evening instead of going out.)

And the junk food we ate without consequences? Gone. Now I eat greens. On purpose. Willingly. And I count calories the way we used to count the beers we had each night.

“Let auntie pass”

Dear younger self, I am now the old people we criticized. I walk by, and little kids playing stop for me. “Let auntie pass,” I hear. (In my part of the world, every woman past a certain age is “auntie.”)

Auntie? Which auntie? Where is she? Please, I am just a child?! When did I get promoted? I would have liked a warning email.

Suddenly, I’m important

Now I go to events, and I’m given a front seat. Since when? I want to sit at the back, be my usual talkative self, and play Candy Crush while the elders go on with their boring occasion. But hold on, aren’t I a speaker at this event? Oooh men. Now I’m the one talking about boring things. 🤣

It gets worse. I’m slowly becoming important in society. I’m people’s emergency contact. I get called to settle issues at home. My colleagues think I have sense. Sense! Us! Who installed this software?

I also like gardening now, and I get thrilled when I rearrange my house into a new layout. Isn’t that an old people thing too?

But it’s not all bad

Dear younger self, not all is bad. I go to the gym and take care of my body. I have more purpose in life than we ever had. My skin is flawless. But aren’t these old people things? 🤣

Maybe getting older just means learning yourself in ways we were too impatient to when we were younger.

So, dear younger self, I am now the old people we criticized. And you know what? I’m okay with it. The bar will survive without me, and my blanket and I have plans.

And honestly, it suits me.

P.S. Share this with a friend who has cancelled plans, complained about modern music, or fallen asleep before the credits. We need to know we’re not alone. 😂