"Time to Throw in the Towel"

Seriously.  It has been a long battle whose losing outcome has been pre-destined.  I can’t win. I know that.  I have known it all along but I have put up a good fight. I have attempted to forestall the inevitable.  I have lived in denial of the progression of this war for about 20 years. And today, I think I am ready to surrender because I’m tired of trying the thousands of strategies for conquering the opposition.  My brain has finally come to the realization that I am not young any more. Oh, all you optimist can say.. “You’re only as old as you feel.” “Phooey” I say.   I FEEL pretty damn young but the ever present signs of my aging seem to be smacking me in the head with the obvious!  And I don’t really like it very much.. no really, not at all!  Oh I know what you are thinking.. “Aging is a part of life”, “Rejoice in the years of experience that have given you those wrinkle”, “Embrace your true self without the vanity of your youth!” “Phooey” I say again. I’m not happy about all of this.  Today alone, I colored my grey roots, bought my first pair of Spanx, and after my walk, I had to stretch the kinks out!  I went shopping today and bought a spatula and a thermos. Oh, I looked at the pretty brightly colored spring clothes.  As a matter of fact, I pulled out the cutest little peasant top and realized that I probably owned one of those… 40 YEARS ago! Not thinking it would look so “cute” on me these days!  And speaking of 40 years…my 40^th high school re-union is this summer. 40 years ago, I was young. 40 years later… not so much. Everyone from my high school is re-connecting on facebook.  Good thing!  Because 40 years later.. we don’t look anything like we did and no one would recognize anyone without a name tag. We look in the mirror and see ourselves as hardly changed at all.  Until we see a photograph and we think.. “Whoa.. Really bad shot. I’m sure I look waaay better than that”. But we don’t.  We look like we went to high school 40 years ago. We still like to think we’re kind of cool except now our GROWN children are condescending and sometimes even snicker when we play air guitar to Led Zeppelin. I look in the mirror and I scream.. “NO.. you’re not going down yet!!!”.  “Hang on!”  but there is a soft little whisper in my head that says… it’s ok.  You’re not a young girl anymore.  You can have a little tummy sticking out and your neck is going to droop down a little no matter how often you work out.” The little voice says, “Maybe it’s ok to go grey, after all, you went to high school 40 years ago”.  I heard two little old ladies taking in the doctor’s waiting room about getting ready to “winter in Florida”.  One of them said, “I have put on some weight and my bathing suit doesn’t look very good” The other one said “it doesn’t matter”.  “The young men are looking at the young women and the old men are looking at the young women. No one is looking at you”.  Last summer when I was looking to find a companion on match.com, I was surprised at how many 70 year old we’re contacting me. Ewwww.  70 is way too old for me!  But the 50 something year olds were looking for the 30 somethings.   

 Miniskirts show my veins, I can’t run without peeing, my eyebrows are turning grey, and comfort has become way more important than style. I pull my neck skin back to see what I used to look like and wonder how much a face lift cost. It is a losing battle and the efforts to maintain are wearing me down.  (Maybe that’s why my butt isn’t exactly where it used to be).

 So ok, I’m going to relax a little bit.  I’m going to begin to accept the process.  I’m going to stop looking at little strapless sundresses that should be worn with very high heeled platform sandals. But I am going to dim the lights over the bathroom mirror and only be naked in candlelight, and count my blessing that my boyfriend’s eyesight is going too!