Looking older seems to be one of the hardest things for women to accept. Entire industries profit from (and actively encourage) female insecurity, and the work of chaining women to their looks starts young, as early as babyhood. In our beauty-obsessed society, it’s hard to find the key to unlock those chains.
At a social gathering last week, I was part of a discussion about Botox, fillers and plastic surgery. This was a first for me and I sat back and listened at the beginning because there was a lot of new information.
One of the group is a beauty blogger and had just tried Botox for research purposes. Her message was that creams and supplements will do nothing to stop the hand of time. If you want to tackle wrinkles and sagging skin, you have to go for one of the medical interventions. Several of those present, women in their fifties, were considering doing exactly that.
I think people should feel free to do whatever they want to look better. Whether it’s going to the gym, eating in a healthier way or getting medical procedures done. But if the motivation is fear of ageing or losing attractiveness, I wonder if it’s really worthwhile. Ageing is good, it’s necessary and it should be liberating.
At least that’s how I choose to embrace ageing. I’m 51 years old and I welcome the season of caring less about my appearance. I think trying to look a decade younger at every age is a stressful and futile quest. I want to look well, not young. And how I look will depend on my level of contentment with life, and on my health.
When women post photos of themselves on social media, their friends rush to tell them how beautiful they look. We can’t all be beautiful and certainly not indefinitely. You can look lovely without looking beautiful, and you can look beautiful without looking lovely.
I don’t particularly remember being told I was pretty or beautiful as a girl. This message didn’t really feature, and as a result my looks were not central to my sense of worth, though, like any teenager, I did spend plenty of time looking in the mirror trying to summon beauty. I wasn’t an ugly duckling but I was no cygnet. Qualities in my character or the work I did was praised. Being funny, helping out at home, writing a poem, doing well in school – these were the things that were noticed. The love and approval I received from my parents was what made me secure, not any external measure of my attractiveness.
In the years when I was working behind the bar as a student, I got compliments and insults about my appearance from punters, and I didn’t take either very much to heart. I would like my daughters to be grounded in the same way.
So what’s good about ageing? Many things, not just your chance to be free of artificial beauty standards. It’s your time to enjoy the good things in life – food, art, friendships, the beauty of others, maybe romance, maybe even grandchildren (in no particular order). It’s about benefiting from the long view, being able to make sense of things, truly appreciating the people in your life, now that you’ve starting to lose them, and helping others who still have a lot to learn. The second half of life, post fertility for women, can also be the time when you finally have the time and confidence to express your own creativity and talents.
Behind the fear of ageing lurks the deepest fear of all, fear of death. We are all meant to die and we don’t know when. But if we get to age first, it’s a blessing, so we should really separate the two fears. An old friend and contemporary of mine died recently. I shared part of my youth with him and the affection I felt for him all those years ago returned intact as I watched his funeral online last week.
So I will continue my ageing process and treat it as a gift from the universe. I don’t know how I’ll feel when old age really hits, but middle age has been good so far, despite the unmistakable traces of time on my face.
But what’s a few wrinkles between friends? There are so many important things to focus on over the next few decades: helping the younger generation to grow up safely, fulfilling my own potential, saying goodbye to the older generation, hoping we can reverse manmade damage to the planet before it’s too late.
What is your own experience of ageing? How do you think your upbringing or life path has influenced how you feel about your looks? I hope you find some encouragement from these ideas, and maybe even find the key to unlock those chains.
10 thoughts on “Why ageing is a good thing for women”
Why is ageing good for women?
Because the alternative is much worse!
Great blog. I enjoyed reading it very much. I’m 66, living my dreams by retiring to Italy. Writing a book, learning a new language. Miss my daughter like crazy, but if I hadn’t followed my dreams my aging would be boring…women should embrace their old age and wrinkles.
Sounds like a wonderful thing to do. Bravissima!
Thanks for this post, Clare, which makes me think about how I feel about youth and age. It seems normal to find the quality of youth attractive. The older I get, the more appealing I find the shining energy of youth. I imagine we are genetically programmed to feel this way. But wanting to look young when one isn’t is different, and I wish all of us, men and women, could get free of the desire to appear younger than we are. Still, we’re not exactly to blame–society values youth. So I think if we can accept the way we look and make a point of valuing the advantages of age, especially the freedom we gain after retirement, we are striking a blow against ageism!
I agree about the universal appeal of youth. That’s why it’s hard to accept that your youth is over, and that you can’t access the privileges of youth any more. But youth often comes with vulnerability and struggle, which I don’t miss at all. And we can still enjoy it vicariously through the younger people in our lives.
Really good, Clare. It’s certainly a companionable piece to read! I was definitely someone who had a lot of attention focused on her looks. It is liberating to distance myself more and more from that over the years. Well done, you. X
I’m glad you’re enjoying the other side of the coin! Liberating is a good word. Thanks for reading xx
How does one feel better about aging when it’s so tied to “worth”?
Good question. I suppose the only way to do it is to reject those external (hollow) measures of worth and set your own. Easier said than done, I know.