Aging happens in flashes of recognition. A photograph, a birthday, a comment from someone younger that makes you realize how much time has actually passed. The internal experience of yourself hasn't kept pace with the external evidence. You still feel, in some significant sense, like an earlier version of yourself.

The feelings about aging — grief for the body you had, for the possibilities that have narrowed, for time that moved faster than expected — don't have much space. Age is supposed to come with wisdom and acceptance.

Anonymous thoughts about aging posted here are from before the acceptance. The honest account of what it's actually like to watch time move.