All my social media feeds think I need to read about peri menopause. Most commonly suggested articles seem to be about music from the 70s, Gen X and how phones used to be connected to the wall, and dealing with dry skin and that extra layer that has appeared around my middle (what the???). Groups you might like to join have names like ‘women of a certain age’ (a group well worth joining if you’re interested in the camino, but that’s another story altogether!). Seeing those suggestions tells me the anonymity of the online world is braver than the reality faced by those living close to me in real life. How dare you suggest that my age has anything to do with why I’m short tempered / tired / hungry / wrinkled…? Ugh, ageing makes you more confident AND more vulnerable to appearance and I’m thinking it’s best to leave most of it unsaid!
OK, fine!
As usual the Desiderata is there to remind me not to take this for granted. There are many ways to age and I am grateful to have the chance to witness so many of them. My beautiful Nan appears frequently in these reveries of mine and for good reason. When I was born my Nan was around the age I am now. She was the ever-present role model showing me one way to be in the world as an older woman.
Now, she and I are very different in many, many ways, too many ways to count here. What’s important to me are the lessons she taught me.
- Birthdays matter. They mean you’re ageing and that’s a gift. Nan made sure there was always a card and a two tiered sponge cake. And a spare sponge cake because, well, you know, seconds!!!
- Pick your battles. Nan kept a calm poker face for decades and I mistakenly assumed she didn’t have an opinion on many things. Only as I got older did I realise that after a lifetime living amongst strong-willed parents / siblings / relatives she was a gold medal holder when it came to choosing when her opinion mattered to her. Tea or coffee? Whatever you’re making.
- A hot cup of tea heals everything. Made from leaves in the old battered metal teapot. Slow down. It will take as long as it takes. Breathe.
- Wrinkles, aches and pains are all hard-won badges to be proud of but you should never stop taking care of your skin.
- It’s ok to dye your hair but when you find your style, stick with it. It’s how you will be perennially beautiful to all who love you. Even when that hair is grey.
- You are fascinating, interesting and perfect exactly as you are. Nan said so.
The authentic you is gorgeous and unique. Words of wisdom from writerly mentors echo versions of this advice. No-one will write exactly like you. The way that you do it will resonate with someone else… but most importantly it must be authentic to who YOU are. It’s such obvious, simple advice and it’s been a revelation. I’ve co-opted this to apply to everything in my life.
- Nobody else will write the same way I do. So.. make the art!
- Nobody else parents exactly like me nor has children like me or the same relationship I have. Therefore I show up in my family as me, no-one else.
- Nobody else coaches in the way I do and so I am comfortable finding my approach and standing by it. If it doesn’t suit you, that’s ok!!!
- I’m ok with the state of my house.
- I’m ok with the grey in my hair…
Hm. The grey IS a bit confronting and the increasingly thick, fast growing crop on my chin truly unnecessary but I think we will cope with this ageing caper!
Beautiful young people are accidents of nature.
Beautiful old people are works of art.
Eleanor Roosevelt (on ageing)
Ageing is actually not so bad and I like who I see in the mirror these days. If I smile my wrinkles are features. My scar collection is thanks to the sun, not surgical enhancement. The frizzy halo of hair that made me cringe in my youth makes me giggle now and that will deepen those smile lines even further. I will go grey as gracefully as I can, summoning all the confidence I can find and handing out sunglasses to those who find the metallic glare blinding. And when you see me with my hair in two long plaits wearing my hippy writing overalls… remember these words of wisdom.
It is worth pointing out that one of the first recorded uses of “mutton dressed as lamb” was to praise, not ridicule, hot older women. The phrase is attributed in a lady’s journal of 1811 to the future king of England George IV, who, when still a prince, was asked at a ball if he found a particular girl pretty. He snorted with derision: “Girl! Girls are not to my taste. I don’t like lamb; but mutton dressed like lamb!”
phosphoresence (julia baird)
Your Nan was a wise lady and now you get to pass along her wonderful wisdom to the next generation. Good work Nan!!! ❤️ 🦶 👋
Golly I miss her! She’s still around though, my sisters and I channel things we got from her all the time.
Oh, love this Melinda, and I too have the ‘old battered metal teapot’ memory!
And your Nan nailed it…you are fascinating, interesting and perfect just the way you are!
Aw, shucks! Thanks❤️
I’d love to know where that teapot disappeared to, tea just doesn’t taste the same in anything else!