When I look at my face I see subtle changes. When I look at photos from, even, a year ago, I see changes. Changes happen so fast once you reach 50 (I’m 51).
Even though I have decided not to try to “fix” signs of aging, once in a while, I wonder what potion or lotion might bring back that 38, 48, even, 50 year old glow or sharpness.
But what am I hanging on to?
Not wisdom, because that continues to increase with each day.
Not happiness, because, in many ways, I’ve never been happier.
Not relationships, because, of course, those have nothing to do with how many lines I have in my face.
Not beauty. In truth, I was never “beautiful” in the way people grieve when they feel they’ve lost it.
Not strength, because I am still strong. I still see women who are strong, 20 or 30 years older than me.
I do have the fleeting wish that I could have today’s wisdom when I was 20 or 30, but we all know that’s a wasted game.
I can be grateful for each day, knowing the privilege in reaching each new year.
I can be open to learning and trying new things, even though, I am quite happy to have a steady, earlier bedtime.
I have privilege to even to be worrying about aging, something people who live in regions full of war and strife, and who may be facing illness, do not have the time to worry about.
So what am I? We? Hanging on to. Is it the media, society, is it innate, to want to keep certain aspects of our face?
I am deciding to be happy to be aging. I am deciding to lean into it. Sheryl Sandberg be damned. I’m not leaning into a losing corporate battle. I’m leaning into being happy with each change that I experience as I age.
Just as it was interesting to see the changes my body was making when I was younger (not that I barely remember), I vow to embrace the changes my body will experience (if I am fortunate) over the coming decade(s). I will endeavour, within my ability, to treat those changes kindly and to support them with the habits I have developed over the last 3 decades.
What am I holding on to? Nothing, really. I’ve decided. Nothing.
Discover more from FIT IS A FEMINIST ISSUE
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Love this post. And your smiling face. Thanks for this, especially on a grey Monday.
Big topic for a Monday morning. Just yesterday I was at my Sunday 5Rhythms dance group and talking with a grey-haired woman (who is, I’d guess, younger than me) about how her vibrancy is inspiring me to think more seriously about letting go of dyeing my hair. I’m not quite there yet. And I have a stock of about 6 months of my dye left. Maybe then … so far, in answer to your question, I’m hanging onto my hair (literally–because the transition would probably require cutting off all my hair).
Yes!
I have welcomed aging. When I was young, people took me for a 12-year-old. Once a guy came to the door and asked if my mother was home. I was 29 and had 2 kids. So gray hair and less elastic skin are just fine. I do notice it a bit more now that I look at least my age, but that’s because of the amount of time I spend outside cycling & running & hiking. It’s a reminder of fitness.
I am one of those 20-years-older-than-you women at the gym & I rather like it when people comment on what I am lifting (especially if they try to offer me smaller weights) or that I am running, not walking, when occasionally using the treadmill.
We are so lucky to be aging with all this strength and energy!