Age Acceptance: How Do You Grow Older Gracefully?
I have a lot of experience with body acceptance but, it turns out, not so much with age acceptance. I almost titled this post, in all caps, AGE ACCEPTANCE: PLEASE HELP ME.
In approximately a month, I’ll be turning 35. I’ve been noticing more gray hairs, a few wrinkles on my face. 35 is a big age for women because our eggs officially become geriatric, and so that’s happening too. And it’s freaking me out, you guys. I have fallen for all of those “you must look younger!” ads and actually purchased something called anti-aging serum that is probably not even real. And yet there’s no denying that next month, I will officially be one year closer to death. And it’s pretty sobering.
You see, the thing with “growing old gracefully” is that there is the whole mortality thing to consider, and it’s not some societal pressure, it’s an actual thing. It’s a thing that has preoccupied human beings (particularly poets) from time immemorial. So I’m not freaking out about nothing, exactly. But I still feel that I’m overreacting just a tad. There’s nothing I can do about it, after all, other than to live life to the fullest. And freaking out about wrinkles and gray hairs is just vanity, isn’t it?
So on the one hand, I’m turning to you for advice: how do I grow older gracefully? I already know that I should be more Helen Mirren than Melanie Griffith, and I won’t be injecting butt fat into my lips anytime soon. But coloring my hair seems harmless, wearing sunscreen seems like a wise idea. Where does one draw the line in the quest to extend one’s youth? How old are you, and how you feel about it? Do you accept your age, or do you rage, rage against the dying of the light?
And on the other hand, I’ve decided my theme for Year 35 is going to be carpe diem, and to that end, I’m going to try and cross 35 items off my lifelong to-do list. Carpe diem, man, it’s a classic. I mean come on, I don’t have that poetry degree for nothing!
Posted by mo pie
Filed under: Celebrities, Personal, Question
I just giggled when I read your post. I recently turned 41 and have begun thinking about the same thing. I’ve decided that my reaction isn’t about “not aging,” but taking better care of myself in general–everything from exercise to moisturizer.
I’ve had white streaks in my hair since puberty, so I’ve pretty much always dyed my hair. Do I stop using fun colors like pink and lavender? No. That’s just part of my personality and part of my signature, much like my dr. marten’s and funky patterned socks.
I’ve taken the aging process and turned into a process of finally figuring out who the hell I am. I’m loving every day. My husband and I are working on a bucket list–coming up with one and doing the things on it. It is not so much about doing stuff before I die, but to remind me to jump at the chances as they arise.
I just popped over here to read your comment and the sidebar ad is for some Cover Girl product called “simply ageless.” VERY CLEVER, COVER GIRL ADVERTISEMENT. Hee.
I’ll be 38 on my next birthday, and one thing I like about growing older is that I know who I am, and what I’m willing to put up with from other people.
That being said, we all have a limited amount of time, and I thinking making an effort to do things you’ve always wanted to do is a great idea. I spent 2008 doing one new thing every day, and it was amazing how that changed my outlook on life. (Late last year, I did an anti-procrastination project i.e. one thing every day that I had been procrastinating about, and that also changed my outlook.)
I see nothing wrong with dying your hair. (I dye mine – not because I have a lot of grey, but because I like experimenting with it.)
I guess the way I see it, being open to new things is wonderful regardless of your age. Trying to act (or dress) younger than you are is a way of denying who you are – and I don’t understand how anyone can be happy if they always have a mask on.
I will turn 37 this year (and even now I can’t believe I just typed that!) and, as someone on THIS side of 35, I gotta say it hasn’t been too horrible. Dye your hair if you like and moisturize early and often! Get a facial every now and then, and a massage! Savor every moment. And happy birthday! :-)
I am 63. At my age, I have accepted that on any given morning I might not wake up, so mortality doesn’t worry me much. Of course, I would like to live to see my grandchildren grow up, but ultimately, that is not under my control.
Maybe thinking about aging was easier back when I was 35 because back then there were no wondrous anti-wrinkle potions that anyone believed actually worked. At least, I was never tempted to spend money on them.
I don’t even recall when decent sunscreens were invented. Before that, I avoided the sun because I have a sun-sensitivity that causes itchy skin bumps. I suppose that helped me avoid a few wrinkles. My other anti-wrinkle secret is that I used baby oil every day to remove eye makeup for 45 years (still do.)
I colored my hair for over twenty years, until I became too white-haired to keep up. Then I was a blonde for a few years because my white roots didn’t show as much with light hair. I now wear my hair it’s natural silver color. It’s actually not a bad color, and I avoided the years of in between steel gray stages.
So I am now a plump, gray-haired grandmother, but one of my daughter’s friends recently commented to her that I had “aged well,” so I guess I haven’t turned out too badly.
I’m the baby here at 31 but getting older just doesn’t bother me. In fact, I’m perfectly okay with the changes that I know are coming and wouldn’t trade any of it for the stupidity of my youth.
I’m about to turn 46. I always promised myself when I was younger I would grow old gracefully. Fortunately, I never really defined what that meant so I get to make it up as I go along.
For me, a big part of that has been to stop pretending that I am what I’m not. That means not attempting to prolong my youth, because I’m NOT that young. I am the age I am and I revel in it. The real difference between 18 and 40 is that at 18, you say you don’t care what other people think. At 40, you really don’t. And there is unimaginable freedom in that.
Yes, I moisturize, but not because I think it’s going to remove “visible signs of aging”, whatever they are – it’s because my skin feels drawn and tight if I don’t. I don’t believe in “age appropriate” colors/styles/makeup – the only criteria for appropriateness is if they look good on *me*. I exercise, but not because I think it’s going to give me a “hard body” – it won’t – but because it gives me exercise and stamina and muscle mass, which have been unexpectedly useful.
In short, I make the decisions now and I make them in the context of me – and as far as I can tell, I’m looking better than I ever have. Not younger, but better.
I don’t much like this whole “getting older” stuff, but I like the only alternative a whole lot less. And there are some real benefits along the way.
(BTW, it’s ok to freak out for awhile. Change is freaky.)
I hear ya! I just turned 36 … I’d be okay with it if I could resolve the wandering eyebrow issue. Seems a day after plucking they’ve returned, with friends.
I had always rolled my eyes at people pretending to be worried about getting older, and thought sit- and rom-coms dealing with the topic were silly. Then a few years ago I had to do the math to figure out how old I was going to be on my birthday—wait, was I going to be 32 or 33?–and when I figured out that it was 33, I had this crazy physical sensation of totally losing my footing, this weird vertigo and dread in the pit of my stomach. It passed relatively quickly, but I will never brush of that anxiety again, even though it hasn’t hit again in quite the same way, and I turn 36 in just a few days.
I don’t keep pictures of them up strictly for this reason but one thing that makes me feel better about changes in my hair/skin/face is having framed photos of the beloved relatives in my life–I look a lot like them, and theirs are some of the most beautiful faces I know. It’s not objective, by any means but I can’t feel bad about looking more like those amazing women every day.
Honey, it isn’t that you are one YEAR closer to death, we are ALL closer to death with every minute, second, hour, day that passes from the moment we are born. There is not one damn thing we can do about that. I am past 60 now, I have few lines or visible wrinkles, no gray hair (through no fault of my own, I do moisturize, but do not color my hair, have good genes, the women in my family tend to look young for a long time & show no grey until we are at least 75), & have worked hard on body acceptance, self-acceptance, etc., & I have grown into myself. I am fine as I am. I have cerebral palsy, have had since birth, & now also some arthritis, but I manage to live a full life. I have good things in my life, I have love. I know that I don’t have forever, so I am trying to make the most of every moment I have. I think that is all any of us can do.
I’m 41 and my husband and I have (for many reasons I won’t get into) decided we’re not having children. So he got a vasectomy a few months ago, and I’ve been having some freak-outs about how we’ll cope when we’re old, as we don’t have much family. But then, my mom died of cancer at age 49, so I am very much aware that aging is a problem we’re lucky to have – as they say it beats the alternative!
I’ve been dying my hair since I was 30, I started going gray early and I thought it was fun to try out some new colors until I found my favorite. I wouldn’t do any kind of cosmetic surgery (I’m not against it, just not my thing.) I’ve just started looking speculatively at those ‘anti-aging’ creams too! I’ve never used much make-up, so it seems completely overwhelming, trying to decipher all the kinds of moisturizing/makeup stuff that’s out there.
And I am trying to be better about exercise – not, for the first time in my life b/c of weight issues, but because I want to be as strong/flexible as I can & I’ve started to notice that’s not a given any more.
I used to think it’d be a relief to get older because there’d be less pressure to look a certain way – but every year it seems like it’s LESS acceptable for a woman to relax about her looks. Now we’re supposed to stay hard-bodied, tucked, thin, dress in style (but not dress ‘too young’), wear make-up etc, etc – or be accused of letting ourselves go.
I turned 34 January 29. My hair started turning gray at 29, which is due to genetics, as both my mother and grandfather went gray before they hit 30 too. I just dye my hair now to cover the gray.
I’m looking forward to getting older, which means NO MORE PERIOD!!! I’m on birth control to calm the cramps and clotting, but still getting one every month is no fun. My mom had early menopause and I hope I get it too. I know it means night sweats, hot flashes and irritability, but I already suffer from two out of the three *grin* what’s one more going to hurt?
Of course, I look a lot younger than 34 thanks to genetics as well, so I really don’t freak out about wrinkles. My family isn’t really wrinkly, but I inherited a freckly, moley face from one of my aunts and as I’ve gotten older, the more of those I get. I just take it in stride.
I’m 44. I have a lot of things I want to do with my life, and a chronic condition that is making it increasingly difficult for me to function physically. I’m focusing on having the best possible life right now, which includes going back for a master’s, moving back to my favorite city and dating a younger man. Trust me, it can get BETTER from here.
I’m 32. So far, I love getting older. I try to focus on the positive, that I feel so much saner and more stable than I did when I was younger.
So thus far aging doesn’t bother me. I think one reason is that the women in my family actually age quite gracefully very naturally; my mom is almost 60 and people routinely mistake her for being in her 40s. (I think that’s one benefit of being fat, actually–you tend to stay youthful looking longer. My size 16 mom looks a lot younger than many of her slimmer friends.) And, I’ve been living on or near college campuses since I was 18, so even in my 20s, I was used to being one of the older people around.
I will admit, though, that I’ve already told my husband that if we have another baby, I’d like to do so before I’m 35, because I don’t want them writing “advanced maternal age” on my chart. Even though I think it’s absurd and there’s nothing “advanced” about the age of 35.
I found growing up in Australia was what did it for me. Not that it is particularly more accepted there, but when you’re neglectful of sunscreen and in that much sun, you get crow’s feet at 17. In the 23 years since then I’ve pretty much come to terms with that. And the fact that about 50% of the grey hairs I have on my head congregate right where my hair naturally parts.
I leave you with some ageing advice from my mother: “At 30 you worry about gray hair, at 40 you worry about gray hair in your eyebrows, at 50 you worry about gray hair in your pubes, at 60 you just worry if you’ll accidentally tuck your boobs into your jeans when you button them – can’t wait to see what 70 has in store”
I’m 43….44 is coming in May and I am actually looking forward to it solely because it’s a cool number! I dreaded my 40th. The months leading up to that dreaded birthday were rife with angst and depression. I saw it as a milestone that I’d just as soon not reach. But, alas, time does march on, and as the date neared, I found myself realizing how silly I was being since I had absolutely NO ability to stop time! Seriously…let that sink it. I HAD NO CONTROL OVER TIME! That was the turning point for me and I embraced the number with a blowout party. I got the blender out, bought copious amounts of alcohol and invited family and friends to my house for a ParTAY! It was a glorious time…and I got through all the “Over the Hill” gifts with grace and laughter. My husband bought a cake with my baby picture plastered on it and I celebrated L-I-F-E!
The next day, I spent a good half hour in front of the mirror…and I suggest you try this for yourself. I examined every line and wrinkle in my face. I caressed them. I followed their path. I found them remarkable and expressive and full of character. Through my wrinkles I was able to see a life lived expressively. Laugh lines around my eyes. Once cute dimples that now have a crease. A deep crack between my eyes. Just burgeoning age spots. Graying temples. All of those things represented life to me. Character. Uniqueness. Thousands of laughs. Sorrow, grief and pain. Worry. Love. Peace. My life. And I choose to wear it well….not deny what it represents. I hope you will too. :)
Soon to be 62 here. It helps that my mother, at 85, is still going strong. But I, too, remember panicking at 35.
My few observations. I look back at photos of myself at 15, 25, 35, 45, and see a young woman who looked great, but remember a young woman who was always, always self-conscious about her weight and her appearance. I love that young woman but wish I could shake her and say “honey, you look great–go ahead and wear shorts in the summer, it’s okay!”
My 50’s were my best decade. Less self-conscious. Quicker to forgive myself. Confident (finally!) as an adult. Happy in my work. Glad to have my children launched.
Gratitude. Glad to be healthy when some of my friends are not so fortunate. Glad to have a roof over my head, friends to share with, good books to read, work I enjoy.
Unlike my mother, my 89 year old mother-in-law is in her 7th or 8th year of progressive dementia. She cannot talk, feed herself, or even leave her bed. She would have never wished for this, but she accepts the care she needs with dignity and grace. None of us know what the future will bring. Carpe diem indeed!
I’m 23 – I think this makes me the baby in this discussion.
I really like getting older. With each year, I find myself caring less about the small stuff. I become better at navigating life and make more decisions based on what I want, rather than what is expected of me. I find age very liberating. I can’t wait to see how awesomely carefree I am at 60.
I think it matters a lot whether you can or are willing to look at age from a feminist perspective and do the same kind of dismantling of “women and aging” as you do on “women and fat” and see where there are intersections of oppression and a rhetoric of hate which we internalize and which do us harm.
Some good basic questions all of us should ask are:
Who names our eggs “geriatric” after 35 and how do they benefit from that designation? What benefits do actual women accrue from that designation? Why are our eggs “aged” separately from our body and how is that related to reproductive rights?
Why are anti-aging products overwhelmingly marketed toward women?
Why is silver/grey hair on men considered “distinguished” or neutral in most cases while on women, it’s not? Why are there so many more hair dye brands for women than for men? Why is the one for men “Just For Men?”
Why are men in Hollywood consistently paired with women decades their junior? What would happen if we saw age parity in Hollywood?
Women live longer than men. Why are women obliged to look younger for more of those years?
Those are just a good start, off the top of my head.
I think women owe it to ourselves to be as rigorous in our deconstruction of ageism as we are fatphobia, as both of them are about teaching us to pathologize and then hate our bodies while corporations cleverly offer us solutions predicated on our changing our bodies to meet an impossible standard of beauty.
I’m 44. I don’t dye my hair because I like the way the silver sparkles in the sunlight. I only need moisturizer on a few spots because my skin is still oily, but I use sunscreen because skin cancer is not on anyone’s list of fun things to do. I enjoy school, work, friends, hobbies, and impending grandmother-hood next month. I am content in who I am and how I look. Casual acquaintances often underestimate my age by 6 to 10 years.
A woman I know is 2 months older than me. She only admits – stridently – to being 31, dyes her hair, dresses like a teenager, and freaks out if someone so much as mentions the concept of age around her. She makes a huge production out of the issue, which only draws attention to it.
There is a difference between raging against the dying of the light by living a full and fulfilling life, and going down in flames without having enjoyed much of it.
I turned 30 this year, and I felt like it represented hope. Like the hope that I might actually be a real, society-contributing adult someday!
Honestly, all the women that I admire embraced life more and more and more as they moved into their 40s, 50s and 60s. If you’re living life right, the best stuff is always in front of you, regardless of your age.
I mositurize and wear sunscreen because it is good for your skin. I exercise because it is good for my body. I eat healhy becuase it too is good for my body.
Anyone is close to death, and therefore cannot take life for granted. Never assume that becuase you age you are closer to death.. assume becuase YOU ARE ALIVE you are closer to death.
The “bucket list” Idea is a beautiful idea for anyone, not just aging people. People should learn to take care of themselves and live life to the fullest because all of our days are numbered, not just those of the aging.
I don’t think it should matter what other people think of you, because what REALLY, TRULY matters is confidence. If you feel beautiful you will radiate beauty.
I am just a kid, but have learned many a lessons, barried my single father at the age of 18.
I am 21 years old.
I’ll be 38 in August; and I think that as long as you act your age, you are aging gracefully. I give you Exhibit “A”: Pamela Anderson. Have you seen the latest pictures of her in that gawdawful silver jumpsuit? Nassty.
Lori – There are benefits to that whole Advanced Maternal Age pregnancy. Weekly ultrasounds through your entire 3rd trimester! I think I saw my little guy more when I was pregnant than I did after he was born. :)
I’m 43, going on 44 in April. I have a friend who is 5 years younger who looks 10 years older. It’s not wrinkles. It’s that her skin looks faded and gray. So add me to the moisturizer, sunscreen, and lots of water team. I would also suggest exfoliating your skin regularly.
I started coloring my mousy brown hair with sun-in back in HS, so for me the only change has been that the colors are a bit less unnatural looking. I don’t consider it at all related to agin when women color their hair. Same goes for proper skin care.
35 was tough for me because i was heading into it still single. I was never concerned about having kids, but I was really freaked out feeling as though the choice were being taken away from me. I scheduled a tubal just after my birthday. (side story: then i got together with my husband, who luckily didn’t want kids. kind of a hard discussion to have the very first weekend you go from friends to so very much more.)
Thing is, I like myself better now then I did before that. I don’t care what others think about me or whether they think I’m too fat, dress funny or behave in ways that are “too young”. They can stuff it. That is the BEST thing about getting older.
I’m 31… and it was a rough birthday for me. Which I didn’t see coming at all, actually, because 30 was a breeze. I think I woke up and thought, Oh my God, I’m not 30, I’m IN MY 30s. And what does that mean? Ultimately, nothing scary. I know I have grown from the person I was at 18 or 25 or whatever, but at the core I’m the same, and will be when I’m 90. And that makes me pretty happy.
I live in Australia, so sunscreen is to prevent cancer, not wrinkles. Having just turned 35 myself, I think every birthday is more awesome than the last. I don’t want to be younger because I knew less, then.
It probably helps that I was very ill through most of my 20s so I certainly don’t look back on that with any nostalgia. I’m not one year closer to death, I’m one year further away from cancer. (And maybe closer, too, or maybe I’ll just get hit by a bus. It’s not going to change how I live.)
I’m 30 now, and have started to deal with the fact that I am no longer a kid by dressing like a grown-up.
Turns out, I prefer looking like a grown-up. It’s more dignified.
Don’t get me wrong — I still act like an adolescent. But the clothes and hair? Very mature.
I probably like the way I look now that I’m getting older (complete with gray hairs and those crinkly wrinkles starting around the eyes) than I ever did when I was younger. There’s something lovely in the character of an older face — I’ve always seen that in other people, and now I’m starting to see it in myself, too.
I had never thought of 35 as a milestone before and didn’t bat an eyelash when it came and went, but everyone has their “point of no return” milestone in their own mind. Mine was age 40 when I decided if I was not remarried by that time I would not have risk having any more children and ended up breaking up with my fiancee a few months thereafter after being engaged for several years.
I think it comes down to your attitude and you really are as old as you feel and while sometimes my body doesn’t agree, my mind doesn’t feel any older than when I was in my late 20’s. I try not to wear anything that would embarrass my son when we go to the grocery store and when he graduates in two years I just know someday that I will end up being on “The People of Walmart” for inappropriate dress for women my age, but what the heck, life is for living and enjoy it.
Relax. External changes will be very minor until you get to about 45. After that you need to reassess and roll with it sartorially.
Grey hair: Dark hair like yours will grey attractively. Streaks are great: why hide them? Sure, you can dye, but root maintenance is a drag. Bright silver bits look weirdly glamorous.
Check out some female French film stars aged 40 plus. Isabelle Huppert, etc. See how they do it?
What nobody tells you: your digestion gets much less robust, and your tolerance for alcohol declines. Your basic personality traits get much stronger. But you get more tolerant, you learn to plan better, and you get kinder as you realise you’re just another blade of grass, you’ll be dead soon enough and this is it.
Also, past sins (I mean moments when you treated people badly) will weigh on your conscience more as you get older, so it helps to do the Right Thing whenever humanly possible.
Finally, as a longtime lurker, I can assure you that you are the kind of person who tends to age very well.
Soon to be 36 here (egads!); I’m becoming more…I don’t know, regretful of how I spent my youth: afraid all the time of failing, looking dumb, whatever. I’m determined not to spend the next 36 years being afraid of myself or of life.
I’ve gotten more comfortable investing in fewer nicer things, and sunscreen, too; I think that helps. I don’t think I’ll ever become used to being ‘invisible’ as an older woman of color and size. I like to think that all the fabulous stuff I plan on doing will help combat that.
I recently turned 38 and this is the first time I have really felt the creeping dread of age. (Being single doesn’t help.)
I love makeup and skincare and beauty items, though; have always used them and will continue to use them, because I think they’re fun — and because I think that no matter your age it’s really cool to discover parts of yourself that are beautiful and see what happens to them when you bring them out. While I am no cover girl beauty, I also think I’m much more beautiful in my own way now than I was at 25, and I certainly love what I see in the mirror more now than I did then. Now makeup and skincare are acts of self-care and of appreciating myself, whereas before they were ways of trying to keep up with what society was telling me I ought to be. One is a positive: hey, look! how cool, I have green eyes/nice cheekbones/a mole in a cool place/whatever — and the other a negative: wow, I don’t look *nearly* enough like Jennifer Aniston; I’d better work harder at that. I much prefer the positive.
I’m in academia and found that a lot of academic women of this age are becoming interested in skincare and makeup when they hadn’t previously been, and they have a ton of questions about what things do and how they work. So I started a blog on the subject, which has been a lot of fun and gotten a good response, and which has made me think a lot about these issues and how I feel about the intersection of beauty, age, feminism, healthy behaviors (both physical and psychological), identity, social expectations, etc. I’m really enjoying it.
This is something I struggle with in terms of my skin. I have not always been so good to my skin, so it’s starting to look kind of…tired. I don’t really mind the wrinkles or the gray hair — I see both as a sign of wisdom and life and LIVING — but I just want my skin to be more vibrant and alive. So I kind of waffle about buying “age” relevant things. On the one hand, some of them will help. On the other, I don’t want to fall victim to the whole WOMEN MUST NOT AGE AT ALL EVER.
I think sunscreen is sensible, not only for your appearance but your overall skin/body health. Sun damage can be really bad. And hair dye is fun! I just wish there was a way to use it and keep the awesome streaks of gray in my hair. Oh well.
I’m 32 and periodically recalibrate my brain by listening to “Older” by TMBG (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZnT5JkGydVY). I let myself get thoroughly freaked out and wallow in it a bit, then start to gently consider the big picture: how good I have things, how much I’m enjoying life, the good I’ve already accomplished, and the opportunities I’ll still have to accomplish more. Then I giggle at my freaked-outedness until I feel all better and can get on with things. :)
I’m approaching 44, and it’s feeling a bit harder than last year. I’m dealing with aging and infirm parents, which is bound to make a person feel old. And the other part of the issue is that I have evidence of my cycle starting to change: hello perimenopause! On the one hand, I’m pretty okay with the no kids thing and I had to be sure of that when I started dating my current boyfriend as he’d already been a step-parent and wasn’t interested in having one of his own. But now that biology is chiming in and saying TOO LATE, I’m struggling a bit. I mean, I’m still paying off my grad-school debt … how can I be old enough to completely rule out kids?
(freakoutfreakoutrunaroundfreakoutfreakout)
As far as the exterior goes? After I got out of performing it’s been slowly sinking in that I don’t need to drink their Kool-Aide of Youth. I’m growing out my highlights and letting the silver amongst the gold do its own thing. I’ve used sunscreen daily since my 20s, and I do moisturize, exfoliate and use a gentle cleanser. I’m revamping my make up (when I wear it) because my old standbys just started looking wrong on my face. I’m following trends a little less (not that I did much) and I’m allowing myself to spend a little more on clothes and the term “investment piece” is making lots of sense to me these days. I take vitimins, drink water. I do yoga (not enough) to maintain flexibility and strength so I can still walk when I’m 65, for goodness sake (mom’s siatica is a good object lesson).
Overall, I am carpeing the diem, and my life is much more together than it used to be. On the other hand, I’m still figuring out what I want to be when I grow up!
i’m 46. i celebrated my first anniversary in december. (not the first marriage though)
i stopped coloring my hair a couple of years ago. i’ve been gradually going silver since i was in my early 30’s. the silver never got to me, the mousebrown color of my hair did. and in october i decided “life’s too short to not have fun” i colored the underneath 1/3 of my hair flourescent pink. and although its faded now, i still love it. :D
i have 2 kiddos. ages 27 and 16. they both consider me a good mom. and THAT is high praise to my ears!
i lotion up because i get dry skin. i drink water cause my doc fusses at me. ;)
i’m happy most of the time, content all the time. life is good. reach out and take bites of it often. :D
Ah, the dilemma of age! On the one hand, most people want to live as long as possible, but on the other the idea that youth has fled is well-nigh unbearable. Coco Chanel hit the nail on the head:”Any woman over the age of 20 who looks into the mirror expecting to be pleased is a fool”. Now, I wouldn’t go THAT far, but at a pretty beat-up 61, I can tell you that WHATEVER makes you feel better about aging is GOOD! Had I the means to do so, I’d line up a crew of plastic surgeons & tell them to start at the knees & lift EVERYTHING until I told them to stop. The one thing I haven’t done is color my hair: it’s very dark & streaked with silvery white, the kind of streak job that would cost $500 in a salon, so I leave it alone, some sort of perverse vanity (or just being too lazy to go for color).
So, whatever will make you feel good as you age, GO FOR IT! As we all know, when we look good, we feel good, and (unlike in Chanel’s time) the means to accomplish this are at hand.
I didn’t freak out so much when I turned 30. I didn’t freak out so much when I turned 35. But for some reason, when I turned 37 this past December it felt like someone was following me playing ominous pipe-organ music. Age is catching up to me. I’m not as limber as I used to be. My joints creak and groan. I’m getting the wrinkles and the gray hair. But you know what? I’ve earned it! All of it. I’m proud of who I am and what I’ve achieved. And as for the “geriatric” eggs – I had those, too. Bah! I was pregnant at 36 and my daughter is perfect!
And I just noticed that there are currently 35 comments to this post. Heh. 35 comments about turning 35.
Hey Miss Mo, it’s me KMc. I empathize with your latest post. Sitting next to me is my very first box of temporary hair color! I was reading the directions listening to Tiger Woods apologize. First, ALWAYS wear sunscreen. This is not about vanity, it’s about protecting yourself from cancer. Second, it’s normal to feel this way, to freak out a little considering how coked up our society is about aging.
Good news though, some of the best things you can do for your hair and skin aren’t related to needles and creams, rather they are related to food (yea!) and sleep and exercise (not too much). Did I tell you that my old(er) roommate Joan is pregnant at 44 for the first time with twins?
Personally, I feel torn. I want to be vocal and reject those voices that tell me I have to do something to look young and therefore beautiful, but I’m also not against rebuilding my collagen if they can actually do that now. Thirty five goals is an awesome idea. I am free if any of them involve travel.
My attitude toward aging (I’m 2 months from 44, by the way) is that it’s gonna happen, so why let it get me down?
I actually love being 40+. It’s more fun that my 30s were, for sure. I’m smarter, more confident, and more fun to be with now. I don’t care as much what people think of me, so I’ve dyed my hair pink and started wearing the huge earrings that I love and just being more myself than I ever was before.
I’m more excited about every passing year, because each one gets better than the one before!
Mo, this one really resonated with me. Unlike some other posters, I didn’t have a number at which things started to feel different, but there are some other Rubicons. Thirties, fine (throughout the latter half I was much healthier than in my twenties, and looked better, and that surely did help.) Forty, fine. First wrinkle, no big deal. Dyeing my hair, whatever–like my mother, I was prematurely gray anyway. I was taking good care of myself in a lot of ways, working in a job I liked, having lunch with my friends, and I didn’t see any difference between 35 and 39, or 39 and 45. I didn’t see why I shouldn’t be effectively 35 forever.
But, you know, I was wrong (okay, and maybe just a tad smug.) Some things happened. One, I had three miscarriages, after waiting till 39 to start trying. Every time I said, “I want to have Jon Stewart’s babies!”, I felt the need to add the caveat “if it weren’t so clear that I couldn’t have anybody’s babies.” Ouch. Two, I gained back some weight I’d lost a few years earlier while doing that, weight that isn’t going anywhere. Three, things…changed. The boobs have begun to head south (not just to, say, Florida, always their spiritual home–more like the Cape of Magellan). The black boar-bristles have begun to appear on the chin, I’m making the aquaintance of spider-veins, the wrinkle went out and picked up a couple of friends, and the night sweats are getting a lot more common. One of my eyes has always had a fold above it; now the other one does, and it doesn’t look nearly as quirky and interesting as the original. My gynecologist has broken out the word “perimenopause.” As someone mentioned up above, my tolerance for alcohol and rich food has gone through the floor, and PMS has gotten a lot uglier. Surprise–42 actually is not 35, or even 39, even when you exercise, sunscreen, don’t smoke, and eat a lot of vegetables. The evidence suggests that 55 won’t be 42, either, and in fairly important ways.
And I am not okay with that, not nearly as okay as a good feminist and academic ought to be. I interrogate this in the way I do other things, as Miriam suggests up above, and I know the answers (patriarchy, patriarchy, la la la.) I know that in many ways my life is much, much better than it was at 25, or even 35. I’m doing my best to seize the day, and just to show my membership card to Club Privilege, it looks as though I’m going to get tenure, at the same institution as my spouse, which (for any nonacademics in the audience) is about as likely as winning the Publisher’s Clearinghouse, and very nearly as good. All that, and I am still not okay with what’s happening on the ageing front.
I don’t know if it’s okay not to be okay, sometimes. I do know that this mortality thing? it’s not for kids. Good thing we’re not kids.
41 here, and some days I feel better about that than others. I get my hair dyed a frankly unnatural red (thinking of shifting more towards pink); I have some grey hairs underneath, but I think trying to dye them back to my natural color is a waste of effort. I have a few smile lines, but generally pretty good skin – thanks to, I think, not dieting, not smoking and hating the sun and staying out of it.
I spent a lot of my younger years trying in vain to achieve a very high-maintenance look which didn’t suit me and wasn’t my idea anyway. I look back at photos of me in my teens and twenties, and I look ‘middle-aged’ in the rather frumpy, starchy sense of what that once used to mean. These days, I figure I want to have some fun and not bother too much about what’s ‘appropriate’.
My main issue with getting older is not looks, or even health (which, physically, is OK…some BP issues, the occasional creaky knee but nothing I can’t cope with), but a dread of developing a rigid, controlling attitude, which became worse with age in certain members of my family. Again, I think anxiety about what Other People would think held me back from having as much fun as I could have had at a younger age. Now, I’m beginning to realize that 99% of those mythical Other People don’t give a damn, and the ones who do, mostly aren’t worth bothering about. So, I fully intend to leap into the next forty years and make them as full and interesting as I possibly can.
Mo, you should be wearing sunscreen anyway! As for the rest of it … Carpe diem, baby! Go for it! Stay active (mentally and physically), stay happy, have fun and you’ll stay young no matter how old you are!
I’m 35. I stay out of the sun and I don’t smoke, but that’s just a health thing and not an aging worry. I do color my hair, but that’s because I think I look better as a redhead. I’ve started exercising more diligently–not to lose weight but to keep up with my two young and active kids and to help manage my depression.
My main worry about aging is what I’ll be like in my declining years. Both my grandmother and mother suffer(ed) from Alzheimers/ dementia and I dread ending up like that.
Thank you, everyone. What a great, thought-provoking thread!
Oh, and I do use moisturizer with sunscreen, I’m totally fair-skinned and just freckle and burn if I’m out in the sun.
Pushing 50, I’ll be 50 in December. I found my first gray hairs this month. I’m still getting my period but I’m beginning to tire of this. I thought I’d be freaking out about this but I’m not and I don’t know why. Maybe I just don’t fucking care any more. And maybe that’s the Joy of 50.
I’m 32 and was at my “ladies appt” not too long ago and the doc asked if I had children (I do not) and said that if I was planning on having them (I am not) that I should do it now because it’s almost too late.
Other than the fact that she “presumed” I wanted children (I love children, but don’t want my own, which I guess still puts me in a cultural minority) – what could be a more abrasive aging lecture than that!
I laughed. Letting go is a wonderful skill you gain with maturity. I may be getting gray, but at least I’m thankful for that.
Great post!
:)
I’m a baby in this discussion, two weeks shy of 26. I’m pale and tattooed so sunscreen is a must. I sunburn, and don’t want my tattoos to fade. I’ve been dying my hair since I was 16, grays aren’t exactly going to be a worry. Aging is a weird one for me, I don’t feel old, and it’s not an OMG! I’m so old, like some of my friends when they have an upcoming birthday. It’s more that my life long wishy-washiness is starting to feel stifling.
Do I want kids, do I not want kids? Fibroid tumors run in my family, the previous two generations of women had to have hysterectomies in their early 30’s, I NEED TO MAKE UP MY MIND. I still don’t know what I want to be “when I grow up.” It’s frustrating. I kind of hate my age, just because it feels so awkward.
DaniDae – not so sure that indecisiveness goes away? I think you just learn to put your stake in one direction and hope that the risk of that decision is well overshadowed by the benefits. But, then again, I’m only 32. Maybe it changes as time goes on …
Even though I’m only 19 my face and hands are already filled with small wrinkles. I can already see where the skin above my eyes are going to hang. It isn’t nice to see all these things when you are not even in your twenties, but I have decided not to think any more about it. It is a bad pair of genes and probably to much sun who has caused the damage and I can’t really do anything about it (a part from surgery, which I find a bit frightening).
So my best advice to you is – deal with it. Accept it. And pray for some scientists to find a cure against death;)
I’ll be 41 in July and, like others have said, I like getting older because my bullsh*t meter is stronger than ever, and I put up with A LOT less of it.
As far as wrinkles and all the other physical signs of aging, it’s true, you just have to accept it. To know that each line tells a story, each wrinkle is a lesson learned, and to ask yourself if you would REALLY want to be 25 again, with all the insecurity and angst that comes with youth?