Amanda
Dahlgren

This is 50 (+)

The year I turned 50 was bookended by two significant, contrasting events. It started with an ambulance ride and overnight stay in the ER after passing out and having a massive anxiety attack. And ended with finally landing the dream job I had been working towards for 15 years. My 50s so far have been full of contradictions and adaptations.

My hair is gray but it's never looked better. I'm more physically active than any time in my life, playing pickleball and doing pilates. I'm a bass-player, who goes to the chiropractor regularly for neck and back issues. I'm tech savvy, even though I don't understand the difference between a reel, post, and story. Alcohol, a vice that used to make me feel like the life of the party, just brings panic attacks. My metabolism suddenly sucks, but my doctor says I'm quite healthy thanks to pharmaceuticals and supplements. And I'm starting to fear that my tattoo and face piercings look less badass and more tryhard.

I'm lucky to be alive and thriving. Feeling accomplished. And creative. And capable. And? Just fucking old.