On aging
- by Dustin Woods
Visionary Columnist
It’s October again, and with it are finally some cooler temperatures. As the nights grow long and we collectively shift our social conscience towards those things that scare us, I’d like to ask our readers to consider some things that typically scare us but shouldn’t.
I know this time of year when people are inundated with political messaging telling them to fear one thing or another. The GOP still wants you to be afraid, be very afraid, of communism, even while their cult leader rolls out the red carpet for the most powerful communist in the world, while flying communist flags over the White House.
Fear is a powerful motivator, but I think people fear more tangible things, like the health impacts of eating Cyclospora-tainted lettuce, their child who is too young for inoculations potentially getting measles, or the impact that rising costs of everything will have on our ability to sustain ourselves.
As scary as politics can be, I don’t even want to talk about any of those things. I want to talk about being gay and getting older, two things I used to fear to my core that, over time, I have learned to embrace wholeheartedly.
Deciding to come out of the closet was one of the hardest decisions I have made in the 41 years I’ve been on this earth. It is also one of the most important decisions I have made, and it has increased my happiness and mental well-being. Suppressing a core part of yourself isn’t healthy and leads to internal strife.
I want to extend that same sentiment to growing older. In my 30s, I feared turning 40 like a vampire fears sunlight. Such an irrational thing to do, given that turning 40 was either inevitable or impossible, and I wouldn’t have much of a say in any case.
Now that I’ve had time to sit with my age, embody it, and understand the benefits that have come with 41 years of experience on this earth, I couldn’t be happier with it. One doesn’t get credit for youth, but you certainly should for longevity.
Youth is the absence of age, not the presence of youngness, which means growing older is the achievement. I have lived through momentous events; I heard the Murrah Building bombing while walking through town on a field trip in the 4th grade, watched the NYC towers fall, felt the tragedy that was a portion of my generation being led into improvised explosive devices because we were lied to about weapons of mass destruction, and cried.
At the same time, innocent people have been terrorized by the same police force that is meant to protect and serve but too often seems to shoot first and ask questions later. What once was not as sharp a mind has now gone through a crucible or two and then been worn to a fine edge by the roughness of life.
But not all is doom and gloom. I have seen some of the most inspirational reactions to the depravities of life. I remember a call for blood donations after the bombing, then seeing people line up for blocks in the chilly weather; when local businesses saw this, they provided warm drinks for the people standing in line.
I watched my country come together in a show of unity after being attacked that hadn’t been replicated since Pearl Harbor. I saw a group, aptly called Wounded Warriors, shift the focus of war back to those fighting it. I keep seeing momentous problems crop up, then watching groups of motivated people organize to address them, which gives me hope for society and a blueprint for improving myself.
Like the famous line from Galaxy Quest, “Never give up! Never surrender!” I am embracing my age in a bear hug. I’m taking control of this ride and enjoying it to its fullest. I may not have wanted to be called “daddy” or “sir,” but I’m truly growing to enjoy it when the younger guys bandy it about. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m at a nexus point where my mental and physical capacity to succeed has intersected, giving me a feeling of mastery. I plan on riding this high as long as I can.
The Gayly online. 10/11/26 @ 6:02 p.m. CST.