I am about to turn 45 in a few weeks. I used to think 45 was old. Now, I think that 90 is old. I wonder if 90 year old people think they are old? Or are they looking at the 100 year olds and thinking, now that is old. I hope that I live long enough to find out.
I am at that age where I wake up and I look at myself in the mirror and want to cringe a little sometimes. Who is this woman looking back at me? I can see me aging the most when I look at my eyes. What happened to the younger me? Where did all of those wrinkles come from? They were not there yesterday. Don’t even get me started on the random hair patches I have started getting in the weirdest places. I looked down a few weeks ago at my thigh and there was a freakin’ patch of black hair that most certainly was not there the day before. The gray hairs are creeping in and popping up in more places than I care to think about. I have begun to make grunting sounds when I get up or sit down. I have an extra 5 pounds that won’t leave me no matter what I do.
I’ve noticed other changes too. I would rather stay home than be out. If something lasts past 10pm, it is too late for me. I would rather cook at home versus going out to a restaurant because I think the food is better. My version of a GNO no longer involves going out dancing till 1am. It’s dinner and home by 9. I dress differently. I act differently. I react differently. Think differently. Love differently. Love myself differently. Better.
Yet still I struggle…
This morning, I heard the song, “Gravity” by John Mayer. Gravity is working against me and gravity wants to bring me down. Those lyrics made me laugh because all I could think of was how they pertained to aging. Use your imagination. Oh gravity…
At times, I feel like I am in the “in between” stage as a woman. I can see and feel myself changing, but haven’t fully figured out what to do with the reality of it all. I like to think that I am still fighting it with very ounce of me, but I also know that it is a battle that I will not win. No one does. We all grow old. Even me.
I feel like a teenager as I struggle with the vulnerability of once again having body image issues. Will he mind my back fat or jiggly butt? The hard truth here though is that he really doesn’t care. He loves it. But still, I endeavor to resist comparing myself to much younger (and firmer) women. It is not easy sometimes. Especially when it’s all up in our faces everywhere we look.
There will be a point and time sometime soon where all of the botox or filler in the world won’t matter. My hair will get grayer. My body more wrinkly. It’s gonna happen. The best thing that I can continue to do for myself is to be as active and healthy as I possibly can and work with what I got.
I just don’t want to become invisible. That happens to women as they age, especially. We become less noticed by those who are younger. I think that is one of the reasons why we get so scared to age. It is something that I have only heard a few talk about, but I know that this phenomenon is a real thing. Our society celebrates beauty so much that when it fades, something changes in the way that people look at (or look through) us.
On the other side, I have a spectacular yet quiet confidence that comes with this part of life. Now in my mid 40’s, a sophisticated sureness has reared its glorious head to me. Instead of cringing, I need to celebrate that line that has etched its way into my face when I smile. The way my eyes crinkle when I laugh.
And so I am working to accept it. Embrace it. Yeah, things are a changing physically and I admit that I don’t like them sometimes…but the subtle sexiness and power that comes with wisdom and experience is also, well, quite sublime. The knowledge and confidence that has resulted from my aging is so much better than the feeling that a young face and body could ever bring. I have a dignified resolve I feel when I stare at my body and acknowledge that I am shaped 100% by both my best and worst days. They have shaped me into the fierce and beautiful woman I am today…just an older beautiful. I have been though some pretty intense shit. We all have. I earned these battle scars, these wrinkles, this cellulite. I wish I could un-earn the cellulite part though. Ha.
Thank you so much for reading today. I hope that I made you smile and think a little bit. Be sure to check out my Podcast on iTunes, Soundcloud and Stitcher —- Jen’s 10 G’s
Leave a Reply