Happy Birthday to Me!
How not to age gracefully…
I have never done anything gracefully. I wish I could. I want things to come naturally and easily to me, but they do not. Everything I've learned and done has come with lots of screaming, mistakes, a few tears, laughs, steps backward, and lessons learned. Aging, I'm afraid, is no exception, and since I had a birthday last week, I feel compelled to discuss, you guessed it—aging.
How do I reconcile my immature brain that still thinks like a fourteen-year-old boy (I won't admit this to anybody) with my aging body? Truthfully, my body does not feel seventy. I admit there are some mornings where I feel stiff, but I feel fine after a couple of yoga stretches and weight lifting at the gym. I actually have fewer aches and pains now than I did in my forties. What I'm speaking of is the outside appearance of my face. It doesn't seem that long ago when I complained about getting carded in my thirties because of my "baby" face. Now I'm hanging on to it with every fingernail. I don't feel old.
How do I deal with others ignoring me? They see a "senior woman," before them, easily forgotten and ignored, or they don't seem to see me at all. It seems when you age, you gain a cloak of invisibility. Definitely an advantage if I want to take up shoplifting and steal a $1375.00 jar of La Mer Soft Moisturizing Cream or perform other crimes where not being noticed is an advantage.
How do I stop clinging to the physical part of my identity that is such a valued part of a woman's persona? Yes, one needs to look presentable, but is the vampire's facelift really something I need? Only if it comes with a vampire. I am writing a vampire romance, and perhaps I can justify the purchase as research on my taxes. Maybe there's a beauty-aging-reversal product with a werewolf too!
How do you deal with ageism? Before I hit my fifties, if I had a complaint, it was dealt with reasonably. My age is suspect now; I'm some grumpy "oldster" with illusions of grandeur or self-entitlement. Don't believe me? I complete few customer complaint surveys after the fact that don't ask my age.
How about when you submit your work for publication, and they act interested, and then after learning your age, they suddenly seem to lose interest and stop getting back to you?
How do I turn my getting older into a positive thing? Yes, every day above ground is a good day. And perhaps, I'm already doing that. I continue to learn new things. When I wanted to write, I did. When I tried to write a romance novel, I did. I'm continuing to write, publish, market, and learn. There's no stopping the body from aging, that's inevitable, but the mind…that's the part I believe I have more control over.
How about you? How often do you feel the race with time, and how do you deal with it?
Have a great week!
Aging gracefully is for cowards. I'm for charging I to the maw of old age, I'm 68 3/4. To hell with what people think they see. Since I retired at age 61 I've been on a mission to learn and do things that add to my personal satisfaction. I taught myself to spin and have greater dozens of one of a kind garmets for the people I love with my homespun yarn. I got my first novel published at 67 and my second is two weeks away. I don't answer age or income questions on surveys. Ever. I'm learning to paint with watercolors. I've become a decent photographer. I've created a town's worth of buildings on my husband's model railroad in our basement. One of the wonderful things about being a fat old woman is when people ignore me, I can get in their face and be their worst nightmare. Why should I behave? They already think I'm crazy...why disappoint them? Most of the time bad behavior isn't necessary, but if it is, I'm you're girl! I've charged full speed ahead my entire life. Why would I stop now? There is ageism and sexism and lots of other isms out there. I've decided to focus on persist optimism with an attitude to back it up!
First of all, Happy Belated Birthday! I don't like aging, either. I don't think anyone does, but I accept it. My steps are getting slower, my joints stiffer, and my skin saggier. Younger people think they know more than me, and that I'm just some old woman. They think I'm behind the times. Too bad for them. My body may show the wear, but my lifetime of experience counts for something. Wisdom and experience compensates for youth. It's a fair tradeoff. I'd still rather be me at my age than the younger me who didn't have a clue.
For the record, I think you should celebrate the 69+ for the entire month. You've earned it. Happy Birthday!