Dad Said it Best
By Estelle Rodis-Brown
It always boiled my blood when Dad would reprimand me with “Act your age!”
What does that actually mean, anyway? It was a double-edged sword that cut both ways. Was I acting too big for my britches or too annoyingly silly? I couldn’t win, no matter how I adjusted my behavior.
As the youngest of five children and also the youngest among my peers since I started kindergarten at the age of 4, I usually was the little guppy trying to catch up to the big fish. In these cases, Dad would accuse, “You’re acting too old for your age. Why are you in such a hurry to grow up?”
Obviously, I would think… I want to be treated like the older kids so I can go to bed later, watch edgy TV shows, make my own fashion choices, see my friends when I want… then as I got older, to go to the movies, hang out at the mall, go to that party, borrow the car, date that guy, etc., etc. Dad would shake his head whenever I asked for such allowances, uttering ominously, “With every right comes a responsibility.”
“OK,” I would counter. “I’ll meet those demands. I’ll get my homework done, make my bed, clean my room, wash the dishes, take out the garbage, rake the leaves, sweep the driveway, wash the car… Name it! I’ll pay the price for freedom.”
It’s not that Dad was wrong. I was in a hurry to grow up because that was my ticket to escape from The Law of Rodis, as Dad called his house rules. I wanted to be in the driver’s seat, out on my own, making my own decisions according to my own rules. Those are the rights of adulthood. I felt ready for the responsibilities that came along with them.
So I went off to college at age 17, graduated at age 21, then got married and moved out of state that same year… all according to plan (mine, not Dad’s). It wasn’t easy. But we preferred to strike out on our own than be “comfortable” under the Law of Rodis.
Somewhere along the way, Dad stopped treating me like a young upstart and recognized I was truly pulling my weight, balancing demands of family, career and all the other trappings of adult life. But I never lost that impulse to prove I can make it in the world… which probably explains why I’ve experienced a long list of career challenges that have ranged from newspaper reporter to literacy coalition liaison, to air show performer PR manager, to college ESL and English tutor, to magazine contributing writer/digital editor/assistant editor/blogger.
I’ve been so engaged in conquering the next hill, I’ve barely looked up to see that I’m no longer the young one in the bunch. I’m already over the hill. And yet I don’t feel my age. I am still becoming, although a part of me thinks I should have arrived by now.
Once again, I find myself wondering, what does it mean to act my age? I’m no longer in a hurry to grow up. I’m more concerned with living long and well, retaining as much youthfulness as possible.
Current science on aging says that feeling younger than your chronological age has measurable benefits. These individuals typically are healthier and more psychologically resilient than those who feel older than their chronological age, according to Helen Dennis of Project Renewment, which is focused on issues of aging and the new retirement. Additionally, younger-thinking adults perform better on memory tests and have a lower risk of cognitive decline compared to those who feel older than their chronological age.
Subjective-aging studies are based on the association between how older people feel and their actual health status. Interesting research from South Korea involved brain scans of 68 healthy older adults. Scans showed that those who felt younger than their actual age had thicker brain matter and less deterioration due to age. Those who felt older than their actual age had an increased risk for hospitalization, dementia and death. This one study is among many that link how we feel about our own aging to implications for our physical and mental health.
It boils down to this: I don’t ever want to count myself out of anything on account of my age. If we are the sum of the stories we tell ourselves, I don’t want to be the one telling myself that I’m too old to do that, wear that or go for that… whatever that is. I still seek the freedom to pursue life on my own terms, in the driver’s seat.
Apparently, I’ve never been very good at acting my age. That’s fine with me.
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How about you? Do you act your age? What does that phrase mean to you? Feel free to comment below!
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