I’m not old. Yet.
I’m not young either, and for that I’m thankful. I hated my younger years.
Life kicked me in the head. More than once.
I find myself trying to “make it up” to my inner child sometimes.
It doesn’t really work.
I remember the lessons I learned, I’m amazed by what I endured and I move on to be the best person I can be. I let those years shape me in marvelous ways.
I’ll still try to make it up to my inner child now and then though. Just because it’s fun to be good to myself.
But I’m not old. Yet.
I have a young person in my life who keeps throwing out the world OLD and I hate it. Really, really HATE it.
Not because I fear growing old but because it makes me feel like a cast-off. Like he’s just waiting for me to keel over. Like because I’m no longer young that I’m to be tossed aside. Ignored.
I won’t be tossed aside and I dare you to try to ignore me.
It’s the way our society works it seems – if you aren’t young, firm, thin and beautiful then you aren’t worth much notice.
Heck, that even goes for the young women who aren’t “perfect” little magazine models.
And it’s an idea that sucks!
I’m here. I’m 48. I’m heavy and my hair is white. Don’t want to look at me? Think I’m not worth your time?
It’s your loss.
Personally, I admire older women, women with scars, women who have survived something.
Childbirth, abuse, wars, disease, and all of the other things that happen as we survive hardship and become rather bad ass to the core.
Have you ever realized that it’s the truly old women who have a sort of bad ass center?
They have SEEN something, survived, endured much and gone on to tell about it.
That is, if you’ll stop admiring youth and beauty long enough to listen.
I don’t mind getting older. I’m a tough bird. While my life is really, really good these days I know that I’ve still got some bad to live through. That’s just the way it is.
The only difference is that now I realize that living through the bad won’t kill me. It makes me tougher. More bad-ass.
Or BADASSICAL as I say.
Actually, in stead of being angry when I’m called old I should just tell this person that I haven’t earned the right to call myself old quite yet.
I’m not quite bad ass enough to have earned the title OLD.
But you wait and see, this young person in my life is going to find out some day just how BAD ASS an OLD LADY can really be.
I have found some truly inspiring people on the web in recent months who are determined to help the rest of the world see the beauty and power in the “imperfect” women of the world.
- Jade Beall has a photography book out called The Bodies of Mothers where she photographs and does not photoshop the bodies of women who have brought other little humans into the world. You can find out more on her Facebook Page.
- I have long been a fan of Advanced Style and the beautiful (and often badassical) women who are photographed there.
- And Elizabeth Gilbert wrote an essay on her Facebook page In Praise of the Inner Crone.
I hope you will check them out and start looking forward to cultivating that bad ass OLD lady core.
I know you’ve got it in you.