Age Never Mattered to Me Until Now

[Berta]

Several months ago I posted on Wacco in search of "Aging, Saging Crones"; women looking to explore the gifts and challenges of growing older. And I am very happy to say that we now have a wonderful group of women gathering once a month to explore this time in our lives in an safe and caring environment.

I have become passionate about the need to create more sacred spaces and opportunities for all aging women to share, talk, commiserate, and support one another during this most important time in our lives.

If you are interested in creating a group, I would love to facilitate. I am also looking for venues to offer either weekly or monthly groups. If you know of a space or a contact person, I would appreciate the information. Additionally, I have started a blog and I would like to share it with you and I would love your feedback and comments as well. I have included a copy of one of my posts. And if you like it, please go on to my blog. https://www.womenownyourcrone.blogspot.com Thank you.

Age Never Mattered To Me Until Now

The truth is age never much mattered to me. While some of my friends bemoaned turning 30 (yes, that is true) and some of my friends wouldn’t tell their boyfriends or husbands, or even their girlfriends how old they were (how could they get away with that? If you were their boyfriend, or fiancee or husband, or girlfriend, wouldn’t you wait until they were in the shower or fast asleep and sneak into their wallet to look at their driver’s license? I would......).

Me, I celebrated every birthday-especially the ones that started a new decade. I remember my 30th birthday party with the male belly dancers gyrating around my Berkeley apartment living room with plates of lit candles on their heads.......And my 40th birthday party with all my friends stuffed into my tiny Mabel Street living room. And that short black dress I wore to my 50th and the long skirt I had on for my 60th birthday........hmmmmmm......maybe that was a clue of what was ahead........

So, the truth is age never much mattered to me.......until now. And to be honest, I’m not sure that it’s really the age thing.....I think it’s more of what I see and notice and feel......I wonder sometimes if the scaly skin on my arms and legs are signs that I am perhaps a descendent of a fish or perhaps even worse, I’m a mutant specimen who is evolving back to the sea........I am a water sign, after all. And where has the elasticity gone in my skin.....? Now, if I happen to pinch myself, my skin seems to stand at attention like a soldier who has forgotten that she was dismissed. And then there are those things they call “age spots” that appear all over my body. Can’t they call it something else, like wisdom mounds or beauty dots? I have a special relationship with the ones on my face.....I just bought a product at Aveda this week called a “concealer” so I can hide these facial intrusions. I keep forgetting to put it on......

And then there’s my neck......that protrusion of soft skin that no longer wants to adhere to whatever it was attached to before.......and the gray hair that I strive to color back to its natural state that I can no longer even remember. And, oh how I miss my naturally wavy hair that the grey hairs insist on keeping straight. You know, sometimes when I haven’t seen a friend for a month or two or longer and we meet and, this is really hard to tell, because it is really embarrassing, but if I am really being honest, if they don’t tell me that I look good or well, I immediately have this monologue in my head that frantically says , ““Oh, my God, I must look really old and be showing signs of aging.” Then I feel a sense of shame about my aging, unkind and judgmental self. And then I feel more shame and guilt because I shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts, at all. But I am.

“Well”, I tell myself, this is just superficial crap. It’s the youth culture mentality of our society and I don’t buy into it.......But I do.....on some level at least. That’s why I color my hair and I bought “the concealer” the other day. I want to look good, be considered attractive, pretty.......young???? Younger than I am??????. And while I probably would never really consider plastic surgery, I can kinda understand why (mostly, but not only) women spend huge amounts of money buying all kinds of cosmetics and promises of a youth returned, and pay exorbitant amounts of money to remove wrinkles and tighten up that loose skin. And yet, recently, when I was watching the Academy Awards, I was shocked and revolted when I saw the new and improved John Travolta who looked mannequin like and other worldly. Or have you seen Joan Rivers lately? I don’t want THAT either.

So I guess what I’m saying is that I too, am a victim of the youth oriented society and the ageist language of the culture we live in. But with that said, never liking to consider myself a victim, I am also a survivor. And while I haven’t come to completely embrace my physically aging self, I have stopped trying to hide it or deny it or fix it.......I am moving towards acceptance of it and of myself as a beautiful 66 year old woman with some wrinkles and beauty dots.

Oh, and if you happen to see me in the middle of the summer with a gorgeous shawl wrapped tight around my neck, remember, I am a work in progress......and wink at me in solidarity.

[jasmine]

I would love to have you use Songbird Community Healing Center in Cotati as a venue. We have a large downstairs space (30 x 30) and an upstairs space that just opened at the beginning of April which is perfect for support groups (two rooms about 12 x 20 each that can also be combined into one large room). We are doing our best to make our space affordable. www.songbirdcenter.org (but we don't have the new pictures or the rental page updated yet).

Jasmine

...I have become passionate about the need to create more sacred spaces and opportunities for all aging women to share, talk, commiserate, and support one another during this most important time in our lives.

If you are interested in creating a group, I would love to facilitate. I am also looking for venues to offer either weekly or monthly groups. If you know of a space or a contact person, I would appreciate the information. ...

[ronliskey]

If you are as you write, you're a natural beauty--sags and all.

Several months ago I posted on Wacco in search of "Aging, Saging Crones"; women looking to explore the gifts and challenges of growing older. And I am very happy to say that we now have a wonderful group of women gathering once a month to explore this time in our lives in an safe and caring environment.

I have become passionate about the need to create more sacred spaces and opportunities for all aging women to share, talk, commiserate, and support one another during this most important time in our lives.

If you are interested in creating a group, I would love to facilitate. I am also looking for venues to offer either weekly or monthly groups. If you know of a space or a contact person, I would appreciate the information. Additionally, I have started a blog and I would like to share it with you and I would love your feedback and comments as well. I have included a copy of one of my posts. And if you like it, please go on to my blog. https://www.womenownyourcrone.blogspot.com Thank you.

Age Never Mattered To Me Until Now

The truth is age never much mattered to me. While some of my friends bemoaned turning 30 (yes, that is true) and some of my friends wouldn’t tell their boyfriends or husbands, or even their girlfriends how old they were (how could they get away with that? If you were their boyfriend, or fiancee or husband, or girlfriend, wouldn’t you wait until they were in the shower or fast asleep and sneak into their wallet to look at their driver’s license? I would......).

Me, I celebrated every birthday-especially the ones that started a new decade. I remember my 30th birthday party with the male belly dancers gyrating around my Berkeley apartment living room with plates of lit candles on their heads.......And my 40th birthday party with all my friends stuffed into my tiny Mabel Street living room. And that short black dress I wore to my 50th and the long skirt I had on for my 60th birthday........hmmmmmm......maybe that was a clue of what was ahead........

So, the truth is age never much mattered to me.......until now. And to be honest, I’m not sure that it’s really the age thing.....I think it’s more of what I see and notice and feel......I wonder sometimes if the scaly skin on my arms and legs are signs that I am perhaps a descendent of a fish or perhaps even worse, I’m a mutant specimen who is evolving back to the sea........I am a water sign, after all. And where has the elasticity gone in my skin.....? Now, if I happen to pinch myself, my skin seems to stand at attention like a soldier who has forgotten that she was dismissed. And then there are those things they call “age spots” that appear all over my body. Can’t they call it something else, like wisdom mounds or beauty dots? I have a special relationship with the ones on my face.....I just bought a product at Aveda this week called a “concealer” so I can hide these facial intrusions. I keep forgetting to put it on......

And then there’s my neck......that protrusion of soft skin that no longer wants to adhere to whatever it was attached to before.......and the gray hair that I strive to color back to its natural state that I can no longer even remember. And, oh how I miss my naturally wavy hair that the grey hairs insist on keeping straight. You know, sometimes when I haven’t seen a friend for a month or two or longer and we meet and, this is really hard to tell, because it is really embarrassing, but if I am really being honest, if they don’t tell me that I look good or well, I immediately have this monologue in my head that frantically says , ““Oh, my God, I must look really old and be showing signs of aging.” Then I feel a sense of shame about my aging, unkind and judgmental self. And then I feel more shame and guilt because I shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts, at all. But I am.

“Well”, I tell myself, this is just superficial crap. It’s the youth culture mentality of our society and I don’t buy into it.......But I do.....on some level at least. That’s why I color my hair and I bought “the concealer” the other day. I want to look good, be considered attractive, pretty.......young???? Younger than I am??????. And while I probably would never really consider plastic surgery, I can kinda understand why (mostly, but not only) women spend huge amounts of money buying all kinds of cosmetics and promises of a youth returned, and pay exorbitant amounts of money to remove wrinkles and tighten up that loose skin. And yet, recently, when I was watching the Academy Awards, I was shocked and revolted when I saw the new and improved John Travolta who looked mannequin like and other worldly. Or have you seen Joan Rivers lately? I don’t want THAT either.

So I guess what I’m saying is that I too, am a victim of the youth oriented society and the ageist language of the culture we live in. But with that said, never liking to consider myself a victim, I am also a survivor. And while I haven’t come to completely embrace my physically aging self, I have stopped trying to hide it or deny it or fix it.......I am moving towards acceptance of it and of myself as a beautiful 66 year old woman with some wrinkles and beauty dots.

Oh, and if you happen to see me in the middle of the summer with a gorgeous shawl wrapped tight around my neck, remember, I am a work in progress......and wink at me in solidarity.

[franjoy]

If you are as you write, you're a natural beauty--sags and all.

So true! Nora Ephron wrote a book about aging, "I hate my meck"