It all kind of hits the fan at just about the same time – 50ish.  The entrance into the years when AARP starts gunning for you while at the same time you’re laying low, expecting your body to erupt in what could well be a hideous transformation spurred by fluctuating hormones and weirdly unpleasant physical manifestations (spontaneous combustion anyone?).

Many of us have been through it and survived, even thrived.  But we all ducked when we saw it coming.  We didn’t know what to expect and we’d been frightened by reports of those who came before us.  Just the thought of “getting old” unhinged many a stalwart warrior.  Some of us were calm enough to handle it stoically, and some were just a hot mess.

And now many of us have friends who are heading into that final curve in the road toward 50 and we want to help ease them through the transition (the average age women enter menopause is 52 – it can occur much earlier or later but for the average woman entering her 50’s and menopause represent a double whammy of aging).  Can we realistically help them?  Can we climb into their heads and help them navigate their way around the fears and perceived negativity?  Or is this milestone transition a war that can only be waged within one’s own head?

Oh sure there are products and doctors we can recommend.  We can suggest black cohosh tea and weigh in on the pros and cons of hormone replacement.  We can listen and sympathize, share and philosophize.  But can we really get to that inner place – that alone and often frightened place – and get past merely offering superficial platitudes?  Can we guide our friends in a way that will enable them to transform dread into euphoria?  I’m not sure we can.

And why is that?  Because society has decided that certain occurrences denote old age?  Perhaps its because as we hit 50 we are armed with an emotional shield and sword, challenged to battle popular (and youthful) belief that we are now old – even though we’re not (at least not those of us who have taken up the sword and refused to succumb). Or could it be because we ourselves have yet to lay down our own shields and swords and are still engaged in active battle, unsuccessful in our attempts to disable society’s stereotypes and have the freedom to just “be” instead of to “be old”?

As I ponder these curiosities I feel somewhat helpless.  I’ve always been a person who could take my own experience and parlay it into helping others – in this case my best efforts seem to fall short.  And I’m frustrated.  Oh well, although I’m loathe to concede to a greater (and often cruel) force I can at least take solace in the fact that I will never say to another human being, “Oh sure your stomach will be fatter, but you’re older now and you just have to accept it”.