Ch-ch-ch-changes
But now that I’m officially on the other side of menopause, the euphemism rings true. It’s not just saying goodbye (and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out!) to your periods, accompanied by maybe a hot flash or two. Nope, there’s a whole package, and sister, you’re along for the ride.
Most of the changes I can accept. I pluck the coarse hairs that occasionally sprout on my chin, I add a dab of concealer to the brown patches that appear suddenly despite my liberal use of 50+ sunscreen. A good night’s sleep is no longer a given; some nights it feels like I’m trying to snooze atop a pile of bricks. My libido has gone into hiding, but reemerges after a few kisses. I’ve never been one of those women who trusted in or (knowingly) traded on her good looks, so the prospect of being no longer young and pretty holds little dread for me.
But last weekend I culled a half dozen or so pair of pants from my closet that fit nine months ago and are now too tight. This bothers me, but what bothers me more is the part of me that sees this as some sort of failure. I really thought I’d evolved beyond this kind of thinking and made peace with my body, but here it is again showing me that there is still work to be done.
I don’t have many regrets in my life, but one that I still nurse is that I wasted so much physical and mental energy on the misguided attempt to force my body to achieve an impossible ideal, and to let the failure to achieve it impact my sense of self-worth so profoundly.
Wasn’t she beautiful? Wasn’t she beautiful?
A few days ago, Duchesse posted a picture of a lovely young woman in a tight red dress, and pondered whether she herself had ever dressed to create the same effect. Ultimately she concludes:
I know women who are mired in mourning for their lost effect. What is the point? I’d love to be able to carry off this dress, but know (and most of the time accept) that the natural arc of life has removed that possibility.
Let’s have a moment of appreciation for our bodies, whether voluptuous or lean, smooth or lined, soft or firm. What we were, and on our journey, what we have become.
Hear, hear.
~
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I used to think that those who worried about aging were silly. That was when I was younger. Aging is really bothering me, and I don’t like feeling this way.
I do appreciate my body and how it has served me well over the years. But I am really having trouble embracing it now. Love reading your blog!
Well, maybe now you’ll start to appreciate Eileen Fisher! (just kidding).
After being normal weight most of my life, I started to “blimp out” about ten years ago, gained 10 lbs. a year for five years. Finally was diagnosed with underactive thyroid. Lost 35 lbs., kept that off for a year then gained back 15, now losing again. I recently restarted bioidentical hormones, also taking DHEA, I think that helps.
But, I think I’ve spent way too much of my life either looking foward or looking back, and the consolation prize we receive in exchange for all those changes is to just live in the present.
Thanks for the mention, Pseu, and for the company along this journey. It’s not for the weak, is it?! But there are sure to be some rewards for the challenge — I’ve found thus far that there so often are, just haven’t completely figured these ones out yet (or at least, not sure they compensate for those black short-and-curlies popping out on my chin, of all places!)
Deja’s eloquence strikes again! I am 53 and so appreciate your reflections on life.
My weight is holding but my shape’s shifting lower, like sand in an hourglass, running to the bottom.
Time to hang out in Palm Springs or Palm Beach or anywhere people even older than we have joie de vivre and will appear in public in a swimsuit.
This is why, despite generally hating it, I try and run as much as possible. It is because I know that someday, perhaps sooner than I’d like, I won’t run quite as fast, and then I might not be able to run at all. And when that day comes I want to know that I ran for all I was worth.
I too have felt the thickening around the waistline. It is not as if i stuff my face with fatty food, and I go to the gym. Somehow the fat is creeping very slowly on and I do not like it.
I am constantly suprised by what the mirror reflects. How can I look so much older when I feel the same as I ever did inside? Maybe just a little wiser.
I’ve been holding the door open, and with a stomach blown up like a soccer ball three weeks of the month, for a year now. Yes, and the tweezers, and a book rather than sex please thank you. It does finally go away, all this, then? Thanks.
Stomach issues – will they ever go away? I think we spend our whole lives learning to accept ourselves. Lucky for me I have the wisdom from yourself, materfamilias and Duchesse – these 3 posts on this theme are amazing.
for the past few years, i have been on the good food/healthy food kick, the walking 3-4 miles a day, yogurt and fruit and nuts and only the occasional indulgence in chocolate cake (for the sake of one’s soul) but i am fighting the losing battle. the contents have shifted during flight. oddly, as mentioned in another comment somewhere, there must be something in the zeitgeist of all the blogs i read these days, because the heavy hand of Change is on me now too. what i considered my rather stylish and unique silver hair, now makes me think of my grandmother — who i look more and more like every day. sex still is on my mind — but sadly there is where it seems destined to stay. i still find men in their 40s attractive, just as i did in my 20s. sadly, they still find women in their 20s attractive. i want to grow old gracefully, but i find myself kicking and screaming all the way. i wish i could say it helps to know so many smart, funny and wonderful women are facing the same challenge with grace and dignity — but it doesn’t! aging stinks. but, consider the alternative!
If I were More magazine I would hire you, Materfamilias and Duchesse to start a magazine. Perhaps I would call it Even-More. Really, these are things that I really appreciate reading about even though I am still on the other side of menopause. But, as it is clear that this body will not produce children I find the monthly cycle as a reminder of my body not doing what I wanted it to do ( what’s new;-)
Anyway, I really love this post. And, I would ask Materfamilias to share more poems with us. It seems as if they sparked a lot of thought and creativity.
Julianne – I think we all *swear* that we’re going to age gracefully, until we hit 40, that is.
Indigo – I know that feeling. Inside I’m still in my early 30’s.
Arabella – I don’t know. I’ll let you know when/if I get there. I’m still waiting for that surge of energy and sense of purpose that’s supposed to come.
Rita – I have to say that I do worry a lot less about what’s behind and ahead. Less agonizing, fewer regrets.
materfamilias – my grandmother had embroidered a pillow that said “Old Age Ain’t for Sissies.” So true!
cybill – I’ve never known anyone who seemed to have total self-acceptance. That seems to be the realm of sociopaths. Too much self-doubt can cripple, but maybe just a little is necessary to keep us questioning and growing and reaching?
anon @ 923a – you are too kind!
LBR – yes, more poems! Maybe we can do a weekly poetry corner/discussion?
duchesse – that’s one of the things I love about going to Palm Springs! The lack of body hangups among women 75+ is inspiring.
Thomas – I think running, dancing, many types of sports are primarily a celebration of our bodies’ continued ability to function. To me, movement is joy.
bonnie-ann – I love “shifted during flight!” It does feel like that sometimes. And no, none of this is easy.
I just wish I had started doing my kegels sooner! ; )
spot – yes, an oncoming sneeze brings feelings of apprehension and dread…
I turned 50 this year and thought that when I went off the pill I’d gain my waistline back…but after several months of waiting I can see it wasn’t the pill after all making me have a shapeless tummy. A good friend and I used to comment on how when we get old we would never wear elastic-waisted anything and would shudder walking through the Alfred Dunner section at Macys! I must say I am not ready for Alfred yet with the cutsie matching outfits, but the elastic waist bands sure sound comfortable!!
Thanks for your post on this aging/meno subject which I find myself walking in (hot flashes, poor sleep, etc.) Last year I went through the “what’s wrong with me?” feeling for several months…feeling just generally irritable and angry and moody, but that seems to have passed for the most part, thankfully!
kelly – you don’t have to resign yourself to elastic waist pants yet! Try the “Not Your Daughter’s Jeans” brand and the Banana Republic “Jackson fit” trousers. But yes, I relate to that general feeling of something being “off.”
Karen – I think the hussy is that part of us that helps keep our joie de vivre and vitality. When we remember to celebrate what our bodies can *do* we have a lot to be grateful for.
I love my body for the three kids it’s made–my stretchmarks are my war paint! I’m a hussy all the way still….Even when I’m a grandma I’m going to be a hussy deep down.