Age is more than a number. It’s a privilege

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Ageing is one of the trippiest things we experience as human beings. Apparently, our voices don’t change much but, while we might sound the same, the mirror tells a different story. 

Sometimes I have these moments of unbridled exuberance, when I feel healthy and youthful, then I’ll walk past the mirror and be startled by the middle-aged woman looking back at me. I find myself asking nobody in particular: “WTF is this old lady?” 

Before laughing out loud at myself. 

I say ageing is trippy because we all know it’s going to happen but it never fails to throw us for a loop once it actually starts. When grey hairs start appearing, and things begin heading in a southerly direction, we panic, doing everything we can to slow it down, stop it or deny it. 

But I don’t want to perpetuate an anti-aging attitude. One of the things I meditate on is to have the grace to allow myself and others to age with joy and a reverence for life. 

As someone whose career was built on airbrushing laugh lines, making cellulite disappear on magazine covers and seeking perfection, I realise how complicit I’ve been in perpetuating the youth culture which has us in a chokehold. 

The graveyard where we send people who are getting older is a place I’m not interested in occupying or sending my friends to. This idea that your expiration date means you’re no longer seen or have the latitude to surprise yourself or change is something I reject. 

Look, I’m getting older, there’s no denying that. I’m Sis’ Lerato for now but I know the painful “DiMamzo” is around the corner. 

I have watched in pain as my 1980s icon Madonna had butt implants and Lil Kim started looking more and more feline. Ageing often causes fear and self-loathing, as though getting older is a curse. 

Mariah Carey claims she’ll be 12 forever, while Sean “Diddy” Combs became a laughing stock on Twitter for using prodigious amounts of hair dye to hide the fact that he’s greying. 

While some people, such as Angela Bassett, Cher and Jay-Z, seem to glide through ageing, others find themselves floundering when dealing with weak knees and deteriorating eyesight but still insist on dancing on TikTok, trying to convince us they’ve still got it. 

Make no mistake, you can still be a flame and look your age. While the 40-year-old me pines for the six pack of my 20s, I wouldn’t trade the wisdom I have gained for the body that was inhabited by the most insecure and scared little girl. 

However, it would be disingenuous of me to not admit that I would love to have the hangover bounce-back I promptly lost when I turned 32, but I am grateful that I now can spend money on quality booze that won’t make me feel like I was drinking homemade pineapple papsak. 

Being young is about taking your liver, heart and sleep through their paces; being older is knowing you don’t have to. 

When I look at sculptor Mam’ Noria Mabasa not only being celebrated, but having a residency at Nirox Sculpture Park at 84, I’m filled with excitement for the future. The idea that William Kentridge, in his 60s, has exhibitions on two continents, while being able to watch his 100-year-old father be honoured at the Royal Academy in London, emboldens me to assert that my best days are indeed ahead of me, not behind me. 

In Praise of Shadows, Kentridge’s exhibition now at The Broad in Los Angeles, feels like the perfect title for this column. Chasing your youth is like chasing your shadow — not only is it futile but it makes you look like you’re living in an alternate universe where everyone is rich, skinny and beautiful forever. 

Trust me, plastic surgery has limits in terms of how much and for how long it can pause the ageing process.

When I fall short of what I say I’m all about — living and approaching each day with gratitude — and start looking at the clock wondering how much time I have, how much I have lost and what I still hope to achieve I remind myself Morgan Freeman’s career started after he turned 50, that Nelson Madiba (who Robert Marawa talks about in an extract from his new book) became president after spending 27 years in prison and Oprah only became a billionaire after the age of 40. 

I love Aaliyah but she wasn’t quite right when she sang “age ain’t nothing but a number”. It’s more than a number. It’s a privilege. Ageing is the greatest teacher and equaliser of all. 

I know now it’s never too late to be who you want to be, to have the life you dream about and to attract the kind of love you deserve. 

Life is abundant. There’s a reason they say life begins at 40 because, for the first time in my life, I am truly living. The next chapter of my life is called “Ageing with Badassery” and I’m here for it. I hope you’ll join me.