You're Not Ugly Because You're Old. We're Ugly When We Hate Ourselves For Getting Old
Too Old for This Sh*t: How to Take Your Life Back from an Ageist Society
Does the mirror bark at you? Bark back
Hate your aging face? Lots of us can relate. Let’s talk.
This won’t be the first time I restacked something from the lovely Lou Blaser , because she often has terrific things to say, as do so many of my older fellow writers on Substack. So without further ado, here’s her piece:
Lou doesn’t say this specifically, but I see so much age-hate, so much anger at ourselves for the crime of aging, as if, AS IF, the gift of old age were such a burden.
I so completely get her point, that this IS the face. It IS.
I had a facelift at fifty, and it transformed me from my mother to a younger-ish version of myself. I am a fan of anyone who chooses a light nip and tuck, so long as you and I are not so ridiculous as to believe that somehow said nip and tuck will solve all our problems.
Twenty-two years later, Mom is back. She’s in my turkey neck, she’s in my hooded eyes. My female friends all laugh at the fact that as they age, Mom shows up. Sometimes we’re delighted, all too often we’re horrified, for reasons as varied as our thumbprints.
But Lou shares the photo that offended her, however briefly, but enough to want to dump it. All I see is her beauty.
Isn’t that fascinating?
We remember our youth, others see us in our fullness.
Lou’s article gets to the beating heart of how so many of us feel when we’re brave enough to face the FACE, and ask, as I sometimes do,
WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?
Life did. All the stories and adventures and the scrapes and accidents and loves and orgasms and laughter and loss, all the windblown peaks and long kayaks and horse and doggie kisses and all the….LIFE.
That’s what happened.
Lou writes:
I realize the wrinkles and the age spots — and the neck, well, let’s just say I understand Nora Ephron feeling bad for her neck — but all these, they tell a story too. And so, I’m starting to feel less sad about how I look and feeling more proud and kind of happy about what it all means.
As I sit here in Lewiston, ID, five hours from loading all my rafting gear onto the van for another six days on the river, days which will deepen the wrinkles, deepen the laugh lines and add more stories to the millions already written into my long life, I so very much appreciate such simple wisdom.
We age ourselves ever so much more when we judge ourselves ugly or unacceptable for becoming older.
We are the fullness of ourselves, all the stories and risks we’ve taken and all of life crammed into this tiny human package.
We are beyond lucky to keep on living, adding to the treasure trove that we are.
That face is our treasure. We may want to do the occasional adjustment as a terribly vain and vulnerable human, but that, too, is our perfect right.
Let’s play, and add more to the story.
Heartfelt thanks to my subscribers and readers, and especially thanks to my fellow writers whose wisdom often makes me look a lot smarter when their work ends up in my articles. Please consider
Often, I criticize the changes I see in myself and sometimes yearn for the face and body I used to have. Looking back on younger years can bring a sense of melancholy for “ the good old days.” In true reflection, however, I quickly remember the good old days were not always so great. The youthfulness was there; that is true. Also there was an immature, not fully developed person who had a whole lot of growing up to do and a lot of negative experiences to survive. Job security was rare, heartbreaks were crushing, and life stretched out into a very unknown future. Age brought job security and satisfying work, marriage, motherhood, lots of friendships, travels, and lots of good life experiences. When I look at the body scars from surgeries, I could think of how nice my skin was before them, but then I realize I would not be here without those life-saving operations. I do not envy the young who now struggle with the uncertainties and struggles they are facing and will face in the future. Their youthfulness helps them through those times and the experiences, just like those we have had, will form them into their own versions of the people we ladies have become. I’m proud of who we have become, and proud of who they will become in the future.
Facing 80 in a heartbeat and yet I really don't know what, exactly, that means. I can't put an age on how I feel physically because I, like you Julia, do the work necessary to be strong enough to do what I am passionate about. So, my chronological age has little to do with it. But the mirror .... ah, the mirror. These days, when I'm sitting on the bench in my studio waiting for the next client to walk through the door, I glance over and into the mirror and I see a strong, healthy woman with skin that doesn't look like it did 30 years ago (or more) but is still muscular and fit. I smile at myself and see my own teeth!!! My hair is a beautiful silver and still curly. Not so bad after all.