I'm No Sissy

When I was 35 I looked at myself and determined that my former good looks were just that – former.  I had gained ten pounds since turning thirty, I had Crow’s Feet starting to show up around my eyes, and my skin had lost that youthful glow.

At 42, when I surveyed the same aging face I realized that my hair had lost its luster, my upper eyelids were beginning to droop, my eyebrows were fading and my boobs were less perky than they once were. I looked at pictures of myself at thirty-five and was amazed at how perfect I had looked at that age.

At 50 all hell broke loose in the looks department. I started looking at makeup designed for women over 50. My neck had developed a serious case of chicken skin, my butt had slid down the backs of my legs, and my lips and eyebrows had all but disappeared. I looked at pictures from my forties and was struck by how attractive I had been at that age.

It’s no different at 57. I watch videos of myself at 50 and wish I had the same skin and eyes now that I had then. At every age I think I’ve lost any attractiveness I once had. Then at the next stage, I look back and can’t believe how good I looked then, and how devastating the changes have been since then.

I suppose that means that when I’m 70 I’ll look back at 57 and marvel at how good I looked. And at 80 I’ll look back at seventy…etc. etc., etc.  I think at 90 I will stop comparing myself to former selves and embrace my wrinkles and jowls as a sign of a life well-lived. Or not. 

Our vanity is so deeply ingrained I’m not sure it ever goes away. My adorable little Mother still belts everything to create a smaller waistline. She stresses over her hair, and loves to get makeovers in department stores. Doggone it, she was a petite, cute, sexy little thing once – and in her mind she still is. Just as, in my mind, I am still 29 – a good age for me. I feel as cute and sexy as I was then.  Unfortunately it is very clear when I walk into a room that men are not “wanting” me, they are respecting me, if not totally ignoring me. Respect is a good thing. And so is wisdom - and confidence.

Bette Davis said, “Old age is no place for sissies.”  But, you know what?  It’s easier than being young again. I no longer cry over lost loves and career disappointments. I no longer have to win at racquetball or hate myself for all the things I’m not. 

The changes are going to keep happening. I will keep looking back and wondering why I didn’t appreciate myself at all the ages that preceded this one. But with every new stage I will embrace who I have become: a wiser, more balanced, confident woman, belting my blazers to create a waistline and wishing that men still found me HOT!

Comments

[Sonya]

I just came across this article, although I see it was written a couple of years ago. Timeless, though, and so appropriate! I too have looked at much younger photos of me when I know I was concerned about how I looked and I think, "Wow, I looked really good then, what was I so worried about?" We need to learn to appreciate where we are and when we are. Thanks for your insight!

Does life after menopause actually get better? Right now approaching the change feels pretty crappy. I often feel it is downhill from here. With all the health changes occurring I find it hard to believe that this actually gets better.