Beyond the Goldilocks Zone

What was I saying? I forgot. It'll come back to me... until then, let's talk about aging. Life never ceases to amaze. I've always seen old grandmas—hell, I even had one. But for life to take me—a young, vibrant, sexy, 29-year-old bombshell—and turn me into a thin-haired, reading-glass-wearing, wrinkled-knees grandma? Who approved this plan? And can we, I don't know... reconsider?

Remember Goldilocks and the Three Bears? The too hot, too cold, too big, too small story? Well, in that tale, Goldie found something that was just right. That's what I call being between 19 and 45—the Goldilocks Zone. That golden stretch of time where you have enough youth to turn heads and enough experience to know where you're headed. Just right.

I think back to my twenties. A head full of thick, un-grey locks—thicker than a briar patch. A flat stomach and a small waist, flatter than the great state of Florida and smaller than Tom Thumb. Those were the days. But did I know it? No. I could find every excuse why I wasn't beautiful. My hips were too this. My arms were too that. And now, looking back, I understand exactly why they say, youth is wasted on the young. All that time wasted in front of mirrors, critiquing perfection instead of celebrating it.

A few years ago, I got so mad at God for taking away my good looks, I marched right up to Him (okay, maybe just in my head) and filed a formal complaint. What's with the beauty-snatching, back-aching nonsense? I asked. This aging thing—can we get a redesign? If I had any say, I'd make it so everyone stayed flawless, knees unwrinkled, backs unbent.

And that's when the answer popped into my head.

You can either get old or die young.

Whew.

I stood up straight, smoothed out my imaginary wrinkles, and said, You know what? Things ain't so bad. Nope, not bad at all. I think I can make this work.

Because here's the thing: When you're young, you have beauty. But when you're older, you have wisdom.

And let me tell you, wisdom is a damn good trade-off:

• You stop chasing approval and start chasing peace.

• You stop worrying about keeping up with the Joneses and start realizing the Joneses are just as exhausted as you are.

• You learn patience.

• You learn gratitude.

• You learn the power of saying, I'm sorry—and even more importantly, the power of forgiveness.

• You master the art of knowing when to speak and when to shut up.

Most of all, you stop complaining. Because, finally, you get it.

Aging isn't something being done to us—it's something we get to do. It's a privilege. A gift. The ultimate proof that we're still here, still learning, still laughing.

And, honestly? I think that's just right.

About the Author

Ciony Holloway transforms her personal experiences with aging into elegant narratives about living with power. Through her creative storytelling, she views each life experience as a scene in life's grand production, helping women reimagine their own transitions. Her gift for weaving metaphors into meaningful insights has made her a cherished voice here at the Age with Power Newsletter, inspiring women to embrace authentic aging with unshakeable confidence.