I am Ma’am

The sales clerk slid my groceries over the scanner. I stared absently at the magazine covers: ‘Stars without Make-up’, ‘Guess Whose Cellulite’, ‘Beach Ready Bikini Bodies.’

‘Would you like a hand out with your groceries, Miss?’

That one line snapped me back to attention in a way that no other offer of help could have. I smirked. I almost laughed. He had called me Miss. Yes, yes, I heard him correctly – Miss! Over the last few years I have grudgingly come to expect to be addressed as Ma’am. That polite generic term is so laden with connotation. Every time a man (and it is always a man) has called me Ma’am I have secretly screamed inside. I am not a ‘Ma’am’. I am too young! Too young! ‘Ma’am’ had been so jarring, so offensive at first but had been leveled at me so frequently that I had begun to ignore the slight. How surprising then to be addressed as Miss. I looked the sales clerk in the eye. There was not a hint of irony or sarcasm in his words and yet, that moniker stung. Hearing that term that was reserved for a younger me illuminated the truth: I am Ma’am.

For most of my life, I have been attractive enough and young enough to garner a good deal of attention from men. This has been reinforced for me in my dealings with men and in many ways my self-worth is directly linked to the bits of flattery that have been paid to me. I don’t think that I am one of those women who use sexuality to get what I need. I am just aware that when dealing with a man, looking a certain way is to my advantage and I like the attention that comes with it. Lately, however, I have noticed a shift. I receive less attention, more indifference, from the men I come across in my life. It is the unavoidable shift from ‘Miss’ to ‘Ma’am’. I am aging and the years may (or may not) bring me wisdom but they are killing my appeal to men.

I mentioned this to Mr. Flapper Pie who, for the record, makes me feel like a sexy beast daily (I promised him I’d be clear about that!). He is constantly telling me how beautiful and sexy I am, and for that I am so grateful. My diminishing self-worth has nothing to do with him. He pointed out that age can be sexy and then confessed that he finds Helen Mirren to be one of the more attractive stars. He also reminded me how much better sex actually gets as you age. I can’t argue with him on that one. And yet, as the circles around my eyes darken, my breasts sink just a little lower, and the lines in my face etch a little deeper, I continue to feel less and less powerful. And that, my friends, is the crux of it. There is power in beauty and youth and as I age I can feel that power slip away.

Helen Mirren - Age 66

Helen Mirren – Age 66

So lately, I’ve been contemplating some medical help. I’ve been wondering about Botox, Juvederm, and Restylane. I fantasize about tummy tucks (three kids do not make for a pretty tummy) and boob jobs (a nice pert C cup). Then I stop and wonder what these things would really buy me? Would I just look like a desperate women clinging to her youth? Like the man with the toupee, am I pathetic or is this something that I need to do to maintain a bit of traction in our society? And for what reason do I need these procedures? Is this about appealing to men or maintaining status with women?

I don’t want people to think that I am shallow. I have a great life and a lot of good things going for me. It’s just that this whole aging thing snuck up on me. I’ve been surprised by how much of my self-worth has been linked to my appearance and particularly surprised by how much the attention of men figures into this experience. I never realized it until the appearance of youth started to slip away. And when did that happen anyway? When did I stop being the young one?

Dove Campaign for Real Beauty

We could have a discussion about objectification theory , how society puts pressure on women to be ‘sexy’; the impact of limiting self-worth to one’s appearance or sexual attractiveness; how women are limited (or empowered) in our society through objectification. We could examine how age biases keep women subjugated (see this fabulous article from 1979 – there have been changes, but too much stays the same). These things matter, but what matters to me right now is how aging is impacting my sense of worth. Theory and conjecture do not change the experience. My self-worth is being diminished as I age because I know that my sexual appeal to men is diminishing. And I know on an intellectual level how stupid it sounds. So please no pep talks. Yeah, Yeah, I know!

When I sat down to write this it took some strength to admit these things. As I told a dear friend recently, it is not that I am worried about what my friends will think but rather that my mother and aunts might read this. And what would they have to say? I fear that their judgement would lay heaviest on me. Perhaps it was their conservative Calvinist upbringing or the hangover from sixties and seventies feminism that the older generation came up in but they do not talk openly about aging. While it is clear that all the women in my extended family care deeply about their appearance, no one would ever admit to its importance. So I am left to extrapolate their experience from what is not said and from the silent ways in which I see them confront their age. Would aging be easier if we talked about it?

There is nothing that can really be done. A little Botox might buy me a couple of years, but in the end I will have to deal with this. It is a new journey for me, one which I’m just learning to navigate. I need to stop clinging to ‘Miss’ and to accept that ‘Ma’am’ can be good and beautiful too.

31 thoughts on “I am Ma’am

    • Thanks so much. I just read your post ‘How Old Am I Again’. We are going through the same kind of thing. Your post reminded me of the good things that come with growing older. 15 year ago I would have never concieved of how much love three kids would bring into my life.

  1. I know I am going to read post over and over again. And I will write more, but I need to reply instantly to let you know this is 110% my experience with life of late.

    As a little example, I was having a videoconference on Friday to meet my new team (at my new job). As part of the set-up, one of the screens reflected the “home site”, which meant every time I looked up I was surprised to be faced with the same thought: Wow, I do look “senior”. And not just because of the suit.

    FP, I want to let you know that because of your writing, I feel less psychologically anxious somehow; knowing I’m not the only one to struggle with the complexities of beauty/self-esteem/sense-of-loss/admittance-of-vanity, along with a sober realization that all those things are Not Going Away, and neither is this new sense of invisibility. Thank you for articulating what I didn’t even know I was feeling. Amazing.

    • It has been cathartic to hear that so many other women are having the same experience. In many ways we are told over and over again that it is wrong and a shame that we are aging but then no one is willing to admit that they are affected by those cultural norms. Just saying it out loud seems subversive. I am aging. I hate it. I want to be pretty. I want to be noticed.

      I can’t wait to hear more of your thoughts.

  2. Brave post, flapper pie. I could talk about this for hours. I’ll say this much:

    1. When I was young, I looked older. Now that I am older, I always look younger than I am. What this means is that while I might notice the physical affects of time and age, nobody else seems to. Still, looking younger does not mean that I feel or am treated like a young ingenue anymore. I spent two years in grad school, and believe me what I think about and what I worry about is vastly different from what many of those 26 year olds are thinking about- and physical appearance has nothing to do with it. In other words, Ma’am is as much a state of mind, a state of experience, a state of being, as it is a state of appearance. And no botox will get rid of it. That said, I confess that even as the ‘mature’ presence on those friday night bar crawls- I discovered being older has a mystique all it’s own. Maybe it is the helen mirren affect. But for the eager 24 year old young man, there’s an appeal in the promising young twenty three year old, but also an allure of a confident, strong, older woman. The difference is how the power is yielded: maybe the young woman doesn’t even know of her allure, her charm, or maybe it’s like a big axe, clear and obvious. But your allure is a little more sly, a little more subtle and mysterious- it’s not necessarily on the surface any more (though I bet it still is), but that doesn’t make it less potent. A secret stash of poison is as deadly as that axe.

    I have seen fifty year old women in the middle east who seem 26. I have seen thirty year old women in belgium who seem fifty. It’s as much a function of clothes, physical appearance, as well as maturity, perspective, and joy in life that differentiates the mademoiselle (as I was recently and surprisingly named in France last week) from the madame.

    2. I envy that you understood that magic thing that happens between men and women early on. I never ever did, not intellectually or instinctively (most women I know who said they had no clue, actually did- it was just instinctive). So, I just lived in a deliberate denial. What a waste! Only now that I’m married, and older, and have a husband who can read people better than me, do I even have a clue how attraction works. Why that man is being nice to me, why that woman is looking at me that way. I insisted on blinders when I was young as a kind of self protection from insecurity and as a result entirely missed the boat. So the fact, that you can recognize what’s happening is still amazing to me. And while it may be painful now to recognize how things change, I’m mourning the fact I never paid any attention in the first place. On the flip side, now that I’m older (and a little less insecure), I can enjoy the discovery of how a girl can affect a boy no matter how diluted age has made it!

    3. This post is so interesting to me, because I really truly never gave much stock to my looks. I just assumed I had no real physical appeal to boys, that whatever was going to work for me would not at all be skin deep. Did I devalue myself? Yes. Was I wrong? Yes. Did it stop me from trying? No. But the upside is I feel the loosening perhaps less painfully. While I know the body is beautiful, I have always (out of a kind of ‘necessary self preservation’) valued more the stuff underneath. I think age teaches us (however painfully) to balance this equation (though the solution may look different for each of us).

    So what am I saying? I think getting used to being ma’am doesn’t have to be a defeat. Maybe the weaponry changes, maybe more strategy is involved. Maybe we can’t trust the man moving our groceries in the queue- maybe we need to leverage a different demographic. I don’t really care to think about what that 26 year old dude is thinking anymore, I’m more more intrigued by a man who has experience and some wrinkles too. And I suspect they will be just as enthralled as ever, Flapper Pie.

    As an aside, my husband read this post and he said that you were one of the most attractive women he knew. So there.

    By the way, should you ever want a dose of that magic in it’s full most basic form, come to the Middle East with me. Ah, you will feel like Helen of Troy they way the look at you… promise.

    • Lots of food for thought here. For simplicty, I’m going to go with numbered points here too.

      1. As to your first point that ‘older has a mystique all its own’ I know you are right. But even that raises an interesting issue, doesn’t it? The thing is, as men age they can be sexy and desirable without maintaining the vigor of youth or the sexuality associated with youth. Older men can maintain desirability by being intelligent and successful (these things are separate from age). Women are so hyper sexualized in our culture that in order to maintain traction you must maintain some level of sex appeal. It has nothing to do with your accomplishments or successes. It has everything to do with being sexy. Older women like Helen Mirren are applauded not because they have had an amazing carreer but because at almost 70 she is still sexy. Someone like Kathy Bates is harshly judged because she does not fit into the mold of a sexy older woman but no one flinches when Jack Nicholson (who in my opinion has not aged into a ‘sexy’ older man) plays a romantic lead at 67. I think this might be a newer thing. Maybe, it is the development of new stereotypes for older women over the last 15 years. I don’t think our mothers were ever faced with the world of MILFs and cougars. There is a song on the radio right now that irritates me every time I hear it. It is by a Canadian band so I am sure the rest of the world has not heard it, but if you are interested here is a link to the lyrics http://www.lyricsbay.com/dont_talk_to_strangers_lyrics-hedley.html . I think it highlights the point and maybe you’ll feel as irritated as me.
      I’ve veered a little from your original point but I think these ideas deserve some discusion. Seriously, someone could write their disertation on this stuff!

      2.There were plenty of boys who wanted your attention; you were not willing to entertain the idea that you could be appealing. Your absolute denial of your appeal to boys was one of the things that I was constantly navigating. As you now know, I was not at all innocent but because I adored you I worked hard to find the part of myself that was not defined by the boys in my life. I think you were probably the reason I was as grounded as I was in High School (that sounds wrong – we were really not that grounded but I think you know). I cringe to think who I might have been had you not been my hard-nosed, boy-skeptical, feminist friend. That time was not a waste. A little maturity goes a long way to navigating male-female relationships. And frankly, the best flirtations are those innocent and sweet ones conducted from the safety of a solid marriage (in my opinion). You know those flirtations that are nothing, truly nothing, but they boost your ego just a little.

      And I have yet to meet anyone who isn’t already past their youth who truly understands the power that there is in being young. Most young women have a glimmer of an idea but almost everyone who I’ve talked to would tell you they wasted their youth.

      3. Yep, the stuff underneath is more important but wait until you start to look physically older. You’re blessed with a different set of genetics and I suspect that perhaps the full realization of an aging body has not fully washed over you.
      And in reply to your comment: ‘I don’t really care to think about what that 26 year old dude is thinking anymore [agreed], I’m more intrigued by a man who has experience and some wrinkles too [absolutely]. And I suspect they will be just as enthralled as ever, Flapper Pie [hmm…I’m not sure, the young ladies are so appealing after all].’

      • Where is the turtle brownie!!
        I think what makes an older person attractive is success and intelligence, but you’re right, a woman also still has to have some physical allure. But I think men do too. Older men who really have physically gone, cannot solely rely on intelligence and success for their attractiveness. Of course, they might try to let success ($$$) substitute for attractiveness- but that is another thing. As women, we might think that these blokes are excluded from the physicality aspect, but I’m fairly sure they feel the loss of their attractiveness too. As for Jack, well, I can’t help but think that a fat wrinkly man who funded that movie must have decided it was high time a fat wrinkly man got to be a romantic lead… which is to say, it’s good to remember whose foisting these fledging stereo types at us. But the older Paul Newman, Robert Redford… they are still relying on some physicality, no?

        As for point 2, I never thought of it that way. And it’s funny cause I was sooo boy crazy!! But I just could not believe I’d ever be eligible as desirable. I may have different genes and I may age later, slower (remind me to show you a cartoon of asian women aging) but here’s the thing- iIve been agonizing over my body, my looks, my not-blond-not-tall-not-thin-not-white self (because this is before it is cool to be asian) since I can remember. That power beauty thing only occurred to me in middle age! So maybe for me, age comes as a kind of relief that those things seem less important. That now that we’re all wrinkly, and chemically died, some other criteria has got to take over!! And at least now i have a chance of holding my own.

        It’s worth saying this is all overthinking. Yeah, I look at twenty year olds and thing- what? I still catch myself comparing myself to women way too young and rueing it. I’d love to replay my youth. Can’t remember who said it, but I’m trying to figure out how to be elegant now, how not to dress too young for my age without going out to pasture. As you know, I have a mother who lives twenty years too young- that cannot be me.

        On the last point- we always think men look at us women and think which one… in truth, I sometimes think they would take them all…:-) At least, the ones caught looking around.

  3. I work with international students. Last week, one from Saudi Arabia was going home to see his father who, he told me, is very old and could get sick at any time. Old? I asked him. How old? He told me, He’s in his late ’50s. Very sweet, really, but he gave me quite a chuckle, and I promised him “old” is more like eighty. :)

    • Funny how our perception of ‘old’ changes over time. I was a junior high teacher and even when I was 25 my students saw me as old – I must seem ancient now! My own mother seems younger to me now (she is in her 60s) than she did when I was 20 and she was 47.

  4. FP! Really, what a brave and honest post. Thank you. I think often about how I hope to age — physically and less so — though, full disclosure, I am 28. (In any discussion about age, I always seem to be met with gasps and shaking heads and comments about how I am still ‘a spring chicken’ and how I can talk in five years, etc.) I do have a few gray hairs and loosening skin on my arms and some more persistent wrinkles, but I do not (yet?) see cosmetic enhancement in my future. I do, however, wonder about how to hold on to the power (as you so perfectly put it) of youth, how to garner it and let it evolve into something so beautiful and strong and indeed powerful as that lovely Helen Mirren. How to retain the sparkle in the eye. How to have that perfect patina of gray hair. How to become graceful. How to still flirt with handsome boys behind the cash register, for example.

    I also love that you declined pep talks about the whole thing.

    On a side note, so glad your husband makes you feel like a sexy beast daily. I have one of those good husbands too, and I imagine it will make some of this a bit easier in the end.

  5. I love this discussion. I am thirty, which I fully embrace and believe to be a magical time when you begin to know yourself better and look like a sexier, more assured version of your younger self. I have many friends who are also in their thirties and are not only using botox but aggressively pushing the idea of wrinkle prevention onto other women their age. This is the first summer of my life that I’ve gone to the beach and noticed that I am decidedly NOT 19, nor do I look it. It makes me a little nostalgic because you’re right–there is power in youthful beauty. Instead of being the powerful one, I’m now the one being swayed. I sigh when I see all of that flawless, cellulite free skin. And I know that it’s only going to get worse from here on out. I think plumping and filling and botoxing is a bit of a losing battle. But I don’t pass judgment. There’s more than pure vanity at stake. It’s about maintaining a sense of power and self. Who knows what I’ll think in twenty or thirty years? Thanks for the thought provoking post!

    • You’re right about thrirty. I remember the surprise I felt when I attended a wedding with a group of women who had been high school friends. We were all sitting at the same table and I couldn’t get over how beautiful they all were. I think we were all about 29 at the time. Every one of them was just as you describe, ‘a sexier, more assured version of {their} younger selves.’ But that changes too.
      I’m actually not that much older than you. I’m in my mid-thrities. But I’ve had kids too – it really doesn’t help.
      Thanks for the comment!

  6. Thank you for sharing so honestly about this deeply personal, any yet universal, issue.

    Having been post-menopausal for some years, I know what it’s like – the effect our image-driven cultures have on our confidence, our identity, our sense of worth. Being married to an image-conscious man did nothing to assuage the agony of never-feeling-good-enough either. I have been through the angst of not being noticed, of watching the hair grey and the wrinkles increase and the muscle tone decline. I have despaired over being overlooked by sales people and spoken to disparagingly by men who should know better. They don’t even bother to address one with any title – Ma’am or Miss.

    Now, however, at 66, I actually enjoy being invisible! Freed from the forces that determine the need to dress to please, I can wear what I choose without being a slave to fashion. I can let my hair grey and feel distinguished. Or I can color it. I can say what I like, go where I want and connect with people of similar interests, most of whom have also been freed by the aging process. People have stopped me to tell me I’m beautiful: not because of the outward appearance but because of what they see shining through the eyes of this aging face.

    My 8 year old granddaughter told me the other day that I was wobbly all over! And we laugh at my chicken-wing triceps. I rejoice when we make art together. Last night she and her 4 year old sister stormed into my house in combat gear, toy guns rattling, to take me hostage! This morning she came down to discuss her latest art project. Such acceptance and love wins hands-down over any physical perfection.

    Hang in there beautiful women! In twenty or thirty years age will have taken its toll on the physical, providing the perfect forum for letting the inner beauty shine as well as opening up new horizons to explore. Two of my role models for these later years are Judy Dench and Maggie Smith. If you can, get to see “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” starring both. It gives a delightful perspective on what adventures lie ahead.

    • I just want to say thank you for this comment. It’s so interesting to hear it from someone a little older. And that movie was fabulous and made me want to get all grey haired immediately. Well, almost.

    • Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Your reply is exactly what I want to hear. For so long I have wanted to hear from women who have embraced aging, faced its ugly side head on and found the beauty and freedom in it. I know that grace and dignity and beauty are there to be embraced as I age but it seems so elusive. There are so few women who speak as confidently as you do about the fredom you feel now.

      I love how much you love your grand-daughters. They are very lucky little girls.

      I’m going to go see that movie.

      • I happen to know this wise woman sophia and have met her in person, and seen pictures of her in her youth, and she has always had an enduring beauty, at every age. I have also personally witnessed her freeing herself from the heavy, enduring shackles of the ongoing pressure of being defined by your good looks. That’s what’s been most beautiful to watch.

  7. What a great post! It puts a finger on exactly what I’ve been feeling since I hit about 33. I relate so much to your comments about your mother’s generation. And it’s true, this is kind of a taboo subject, in a way. I feel like I’m not supposed to care, but it’s a big change, and I do! I always judged anyone who went for cosmetic surgery, but now I completely understand it. Because in our crazy society, part of our worth as women is based on our appearance. I agree with BeZ that men suffer too, but not nearly to the same degree. Still, I do believe in my heart of hearts that those who age gracefully are those who keep joy on their hearts and a twinkle in their eye, and I try to remind myself of that.

    I distinctly remember hitting puberty and suddenly getting attention from men and boys. But I related that to simply being a woman. I thought it would always be like that, so it was a surprise when that all changed in my early thirties. And especially challenging as I considered dating in that new world. It took a while to even believe that someone could find me attractive. But this was a gift too because I found myself focusing more on my inner worth and the inner worth of others (not that I don’t find my guy infinitely attractive, because I do).

    One last thing – like Wise Woman Sophia, I remember my grandmother talking about the freedom she found in aging. I remember her saying that she was so glad to be old because she could have an interesting conversation with a young man on a bus without having to worry about attraction coming into the equation. And in a way, I relate to that too (on a smaller scale). I feel that attraction is less in the way, because it was difficult to navigate too – getting groped on the bus or hit on in the way that I experienced in my teens and twenties. It doesn’t happen anymore, and to me that is a distinct advantage of being older.

    • I can’t wrap my head around what it would be like to date now. I’m so grateful for my husband. I read somewhere that we all see our spouses as more attractive than other people do. Isn’t that a great thing? I’m sure it has to do with knowing them so intimately and seeing past appearances. But I know when my husband tells me that I’m beautiful he really believes it.

  8. Thank you for sharing this, Flapper Pie. It’s refreshing to hear someone just say what they are really experiencing instead of what they think they should be experiencing. Sure, we all wish we were finding our inner strengths in our 30’s and 40’s, leaving behind the superficial vanities of socially prescribed beauty, freeing ourselves from the insecurities of youth. But, honestly? That may be part of the story but it’s not all of it and I appreciate the lack of sugar-coating. It felt honest, so thank you for that.

    I heard a scholar recently posit that many women have primarily sourced power from their desirability and their ability to care and nurture others. As much as I hate to admit it that sounds very familiar to me. I’ve been hungry for a long time for role models that can fully embrace and inhabit both, without building their self-worth upon either because the older I get, the shakier that foundation feels. Sure, I guess it’s partly because I’m getting older and less attractive but mostly because it means my self worth comes from being wanted and needed by others. Where are my own needs, desires, expectations, even my dreams, in that place?

    Way back at the beginning of Mother Sugar there was a post about “Whose your role model?” where we touched on some of this. I suppose I could wait another 20-30 years to be that role model who is beautiful from the inside out, effortlessly. (Thank you WiseWomanSophia!) But since we’re being honest here, I don’t really want to wait that long. Anyone know any short cuts on the way to self-actualization? :)

    Enjoyed your post and the comments. I am inspired to take my mojo out to play now and then instead of sceptically poking at it with a big toe just to see if it’s still alive.

  9. Great post! Somehow in my brain it connects directly with a memory I have of going on a hike with some friends several years ago. I think of it as a kind of parable here, so stay with me: I had gotten ready for the hike that morning, showered and gone through my regular routine of putting on a bit of makeup, which for me includes lipstick. When I met them at the hike they laughed at me for wearing lipstick – I hadn’t even though of it until then. We laughed about it a bit and then started the hike. This was one of those Vancouverite hikes, the kind that involves chains and copious amounts of sweating towards the end, not only because of the hiking but because of the fear of where you are actually going. The point to this story is this: they laughed at me for wearing lipstick, but they were the ones that had to stop every 50 feet to recuperate, while I, the bodacious lipstick wearer continued unphased. In fact at different points I alternately carried both of their packs for them to help them out with that too. What I learned from that hike is this: life is hard – do what works for you. If wearing lipstick makes you feel good enough to climb the mountain – WEAR THE LIPSTICK. This connects with the idea of acceptance of aging (which I have watched my grandmother and mother gracefully accept – so I have good role models) – but also with the idea of kicking back a bit. I see nothing wrong with giving the aging process a run for its money – the trick is to stop about 10 procedures before Joan Rivers did :) Oh, and a word of advice ladies (skip the Botox – go for the Microdermabrasion and/or Cold Laser treatments – less poison, good results – or so a little bird told me :)).

    • I love the image of hiking in lipstick! Agh and yes – Joan Rivers – there’s a parable on what not to do!

  10. Here’s why I’m glad to be older:
    1) I’m finally beginning to enjoy the bleedingly obvious but never reinforced fact that I know a bunch of stuff and my mind works in ways that are pretty cool, if I say so myself. Sometimes I say really smart things.
    2) Sex gets better by the week! I was told the “peak” for women was at 33 or thereabouts, but I’m 40 next year and its just getting exponentially better (when I can stay awake long enough to do it)
    3) Because being in my teens or 20’s in the world we currently live in would totally and utterly SUCK. 40% of Americans between the age of 20-25 are medicated for depression, anxiety or ADHD. Young women are more confused about their identity than I could possibly imagine, thanks to the “evolution” of societal expectations. Being constantly overstimulated by technology, getting straight A’s and scholarship to Harvard and 20,000 Facebook friends (any of whom might become a “cyberbully”), being effortlessly good looking and expected to have the sexual prowess and confidence of a pornstar is not a youth I’d like to live, thanks very much.

    Here’s why I’m not glad to be older:
    1) Maintenance takes so much more TIME than it did before! I’m hairier, wrinklier, wobblier, toothier (if that’s a word), harder and more expensive to dress, and it’s all so exhausting….
    2) I’m secretly a little bit scared that I’m going to become a statistic one day. That my husband, much as he loves me now, is going to want to trade me in for a younger, faster model. There’s not much I can do about it, but the thought does make me sad.
    3) And yes, I have to admit it. Not being asked to join the front of the line, or get through security at the airport carrying a huge container of liquid and three oversized bags, or overhear comments between guys as I walk by, is a little disappointing. That’s the bit that takes some getting used to. It is what it is :-)

    I was watching a comedian today, and he joked that “women don’t age like wine, they age like stale bread”. I thought how sad it is for him that he still has the tastebuds of a five year old.

  11. Pingback: What’s in a Dress? | Mother Sugar

  12. Great discussion. Thanks for your candor and courage to say what we all think: “If my looks and youth are fading, will I still be relevant?” It is scary to think we will be put on the shelf due to cellulite! We are constantly told that in this day and age it’s our accomplishments and character that matter, but when those gray hairs pop up, boy, oh boy, do we flip out! However, being on the downhill side of 30, and yes, even 40, I have to say that after we are done freaking out, there is great freedom in embracing the mature season of life. Freedom from insecurities that plague youth, freedom from the struggle to “prove” yourself, freedom from the burden of always having to look perfect. (Not that I ever looked perfect, mind you). Your energies and focus can go into more lasting pursuits such as your relationships and your true passions. However, in the spirit of full disclosure, I will say it did hurt the first time a male waiter called me “senora” and not “senorita.” Ouch. Thanks for stirring the pot!

    • Thanks for your comment. So glad you stopped by. I’m not a place yet where I feel much freedom but I hope to get there. By the way, I stopped by your blog and really enjoyed it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s