the happy cactus

Just like the moon and the sun who are constantly pursuing each other yet never somehow able to shorten the distance between the two, I viewed getting old as the same. Both the sun and moon know the distance will never be reduced and they are content with the knowledge of that. Age happened to those around me, not me. Age however, is always pursing us, endlessly lurking in the shadows, slowly gaining ground toward us. Relentless and determined in the hunt, age catches us unawares. We expect it to eventually happen but cannot pinpoint when it finally does. It is marked by subtle moments or incidents that creep into our life experiences. It is inevitable, unstoppable, and irreversible.

It is the thing I have dreaded my entire life. To be old is to be unseen, to be feeble, to be forgotten. I remember several occasions where my granddad would come over and I always viewed him as ‘old’ both in looks and how he dressed and especially how he spoke. Mind you I was only nine and everyone to me was old. When mum died at the young age of 32 I thought she was old. Fast forward to when I turned 30 and I realised that my darling mum was actually very young and in her prime years. And, my granddad was only 55 when I was nine! When I was a child, the grandparents of my day looked much older due to the blue-rinse grandma’s and fedora wearing grandfathers who dressed in their Sunday best to go out to do simple errands. My husband is my granddads age when I thought he was old! Like how did that happen?

At what point did I get old? It seems that it happened overnight; I woke up and BOOM!! Suddenly I have these wrinkles, age spots, and grey hairs that are sprouting in my EYEBROWS!! When did the skin on my legs get covered in thinning crepes? It leaves me to wonder if I am the only one becoming exhausted by running so fast from the pitfalls of age. I am tired from the hunt, tired from the mental game that it plays with my mind, and especially tired from the physical symptoms. For so long I have been internally dreading each birthday that marks yet another year turning yet another year older. And with each year, it seems, I am gifted a party favour containing more ailments. Here, have some more wrinkles…we thought you could do with more age spots on your face…look, we had extra grey hair so we’ve donated a patch for the top of your head and there is plenty for your left eyebrow if you like! Let’s add some saggy jowls because honey, who doesn’t love jowls…Oh Look, the back of your hands need some skin that is fraught with age spots, sun spots and let’s cover it with some skin that resembles your elbow or your husbands ballsack. Geez mister, thanks.

This hunt is tiring and with each day, ebbs closer. It is exhausting. Is it so horrible to look your age? Must we all look like we are still in our twenties with no hint of life experience? When I recently caught up with an old childhood friend, they said ‘oh you have aged well, you look great!’ I was both complimented yet found it to be a backhanded comment. How was I supposed to look? I have been earthside for fifty years and like a well-cared for leather bag, I have wear and tear. Some can be buffed out with some good leather oil but mostly, my age is visible. And, finally, I am ok with that. For what me and my body, mind and soul have been through, I feel like I should wear my skin proudly. I am completely comfortable in my own skin. Turning 30 was challenging. Turning 40 was easier however, turning 45 really took it out of me. And now, somewhere between ages 45 and 49, I have completely altered my perspective. Pulled it apart piece by piece, analysed the parts, gave it a thorough clean out, and compassionately restructured my entire essence. I am now at peace with this next journey. So many external factors have contributed to reaching this point of contentedness and suffice to say, it has not been an easy boat ride. 

I know I am not alone in dreading ageing but I am also aware that there are many who are not impacted or bothered by it. for those of us who are encompassed with existential dread/fear, here are some reasons why we may feel this way.

1. Societal pressures: Women in particular are often faced with societal pressures to maintain their youthfulness and physical attractiveness. There is a ubiquitous cultural emphasis on youthful beauty, which can lead to anxiety and self-esteem issues as women get older.
2. Ageism & Stereotypes: Ageism, which classes as discrimination or prejudice based on age, can affect women disproportionately. Some stereotypes are inclusive of perception of diminished value, loss of attractiveness, or reduced societal relevance; all which greatly impact negatively around perceptions of getting older.
3. Changes in Physical Appearance: Ageing is entwined with many physical changes such wrinkles, skin viscosity, greying or thinning hair, and changes in body shape such as weight gain in prominent areas like the midriff. When some or all of these changes begin, it can challenge societal beauty standards and may lead to feelings of insecurity or dissatisfaction with how we perceive ourselves.
4. Health Concerns: Women undergo peri/menopause, osteoporosis, or increased risk of certain heart diseases. Concerns about fertility and reproductive changes can also influence attitudes towards ageing and how we fit into the wider world.
5. Cultural and Personal Expectations: Cultural and personal expectations about achievements, milestones, and life stages can contribute to anxiety about ageing and can lead to depression. There may be a sense of time running out or unmet expectations, leading to feelings of regret or dissatisfaction.

I wholeheartedly believe it is imperative to challenge and redefine three major factors: a) the deep-set societal beauty standards in which we all strive to obtain, b) celebrate the diverse experiences and contributions of women at all ages and stages of their life, and c) promote positive narratives around ageing for women.

Could you imagine society shifting from valuing the woman’s outward appearance to placing an emphasis on the value of wisdom, experience, and personal growth? This will inevitably help shift perceptions while strengthening and empowering women to embrace the ageing process without a sense of impending doom and gloom.

There is a steady silent movement that has been slowing gathering momentum, one where the middle-aged women are saying ‘enough is enough’ and ‘my worth is not in my looks’. We are no longer running from the hunt where age is constantly pursuing us. I am part of that movement. I am not defined by my age. I am not defined by looks. I know my value and my worth, and it does not lie within my outward appearance.

Neither does yours.