Woman, Over 50: Explained. (Because no stupid little quiz can really get it right.)
Since my separation and eventual divorce from my ex, I have found myself back in the social stream and exposed to just how many other fish there are out there in the sea, but I am no longer the nubile young woman I once was. I have had a few very flattering propositions but I have also been the recipient of a stinging rejection once my true age is revealed, much the same as one might react when they discover that a vehicle has over 100,000 miles on it. I refuse to be apologetic about my age, but I do feel I need to offer a disclaimer or warning label of sorts to prevent an "OMG!" moment at a potential unveiling as a result of my witty charm, clever packaging and creative selfies.
For instance, there is a lot more to me than meets the eye. Literally. I have a double chin where once there was one. I have more curves than I ever imagined possible, and believe me when I say they are far from seductive or alluring. Just about everything has succumbed to the gravitational pull of the earth... my gluteus maximus, the skin around my eyes, and even my once proud and perky twins have fallen to the passage of time. My biceps have relocated to the underside of my arm and my muffin top is sagging. Tiger stripes are the new stretch marks? Please! They are called strength marks, and I proudly bear them as testament of motherhood and a life that has at times stretched me to my limits but has never broken me. I jiggle when I walk, and I've developed an annoying little snort when I laugh.
I'm rude, I'm crude. I'm facetious and flirtatious yet awkwardly shy at the worst of times. I run through life because life is too short, but I make frequent stops because I don't want to miss anything. I lose my temper quickly and often but forgive or apologize just as quickly, because seriously, life is too short. Women like me tend to be candid but compassionate because that "Been there, done that" look etched on our faces is genuine. If our ferocity contradicts our vulnerability, it is not hypocrisy but mere facets in our personalities that have developed over decades of conflict and coping. If we have convictions, they come from experience. Please respect them.
I'm not a flower, I'm not a song. I'm not a 70's Sit Com mom or an aura color. I'm not on the down slide of life or out to pasture. Every change in my body and personality, I proudly display like a combat stripe. I agree it could be packaged better, but I won't put myself through torturous routines to better fit someone else's image of how I should look or act at this age.
I believe that it's perfectly okay to be 50+ and happy, without apology, so consider yourself warned. ;)
For instance, there is a lot more to me than meets the eye. Literally. I have a double chin where once there was one. I have more curves than I ever imagined possible, and believe me when I say they are far from seductive or alluring. Just about everything has succumbed to the gravitational pull of the earth... my gluteus maximus, the skin around my eyes, and even my once proud and perky twins have fallen to the passage of time. My biceps have relocated to the underside of my arm and my muffin top is sagging. Tiger stripes are the new stretch marks? Please! They are called strength marks, and I proudly bear them as testament of motherhood and a life that has at times stretched me to my limits but has never broken me. I jiggle when I walk, and I've developed an annoying little snort when I laugh.
I'm rude, I'm crude. I'm facetious and flirtatious yet awkwardly shy at the worst of times. I run through life because life is too short, but I make frequent stops because I don't want to miss anything. I lose my temper quickly and often but forgive or apologize just as quickly, because seriously, life is too short. Women like me tend to be candid but compassionate because that "Been there, done that" look etched on our faces is genuine. If our ferocity contradicts our vulnerability, it is not hypocrisy but mere facets in our personalities that have developed over decades of conflict and coping. If we have convictions, they come from experience. Please respect them.
I'm not a flower, I'm not a song. I'm not a 70's Sit Com mom or an aura color. I'm not on the down slide of life or out to pasture. Every change in my body and personality, I proudly display like a combat stripe. I agree it could be packaged better, but I won't put myself through torturous routines to better fit someone else's image of how I should look or act at this age.
I believe that it's perfectly okay to be 50+ and happy, without apology, so consider yourself warned. ;)
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