Aug
10
I was listening to a podcast the other day and the host was talking about all the various aging-related discomforts she’d been noticing, like how she felt like her whole body was slowly tightening, and how stiff she felt in the mornings, and how she used to be able to skip a certain workout/move for a while then get right back into it but now she encounters resistance etc and I kept nodding along in weirdly delighted recognition until she revealed that she was all of thirty-four years old, at which point I found myself saying “OH HONEY” right out loud to NO ONE, or maybe to both of us. Anyway, relatable! — yet … not.
I keep thinking there will be some sort of tipping point, aging-wise, where I sort of just grok with fullness that this is the natural way of things and there’s no point in despairing over what is lost when a person could instead focus on what is gained. (Look at me trying to bright-side a nascent apron belly.)
I don’t know why I visualize this as some sort of a one-day event, where I rise up from the ashes of various ineffective anti-aging potions and cast my final vanity-related fuck into the sea. FUCK IT ALLLLLL, I’ll sing out at top off-key volume while snow-white hairs erupt from my unplucked face and my breasts drop thankfully to the ground, finally unfettered by decades of wire suspension.
I don’t think it will really work that way, but it’s a little thrilling to imagine that it could.
At 64 I thought the the aging thing would be more of a linear thing where your body slowly breaks down. No such luck, both of my wrists are now sore where a couple of months ago they were fine. My right knee hurts more than it should. My Achilles heal on my right foot is sore. Then again, this beats the alternative
This made me genuinely LOL. I’ll join you in this ceremony if it becomes a thing. Every day my boobs hang a tad lower, my skin more noticeably resembles crepe paper, and I had a black hair grow from one boob in less than 12 hours. I am 42. Can’t wait to see what other fun changes are in store.
Do you know who thinks you look amazing right now?
It’s you, 10 years from now.
Do you know who thinks that you feel great – completely limber and able to do anything?
It’s you, 20 years from now.
I look back and think of the belly that I felt was too big when I was in my twenties and then I laugh deep from the stretch marked belly that has gestated two.
I totally get it, I’m the same age as you and feel the same most days. The stiffness, the skin, somehow my mom’s hands have appeared on my arms! I try to remember all the criticism that I’ve heaped on myself over the years and, looking back, how little I deserved it. I figure that I probably don’t deserve it now.
This post reminded me of this. Solidarity, sister.
https://youtu.be/XPpsI8mWKmg
34! Hahahahasob. But I do remember changes in my 30s, which are, of course, nothing compared to now (hi apron belly). Ah, life. It’s a Journey.
Ya’ll just made me google apron belly. It’s nice to be able to put a name to a face lmao