✒My
Journey:
In 2016 I reached what could be
considered a milestone -
60 years of being me. Alongside planning the celebrations, I felt the
desire to write a love letter to myself; A song of thanks to the body
and soul that has held me since 1956.
I mulled over the the tone, the words chasing around in my head via
chats with my girl-friends and evidence glimpsed most days in the
media: ‘Women over 50 become invisible”….SAY WHAT GIRL??? HELL NOT
ON MY WATCH!
From this came the seed for my book "The Invisibility Myth”.
A wider love letter to ALL the
strong, awesome, ‘ordinary extraordinary’ women of the world; Those I am
blessed to know and those I have never met. I feel the need to:
☛ Explore and share the journeys,
life stories and photographs of a number of ordinary extraordinary
women over the age of 50.
☛To challenge stereotypes – for
example: Language; ’Silver fox’ for men implying yumminess - ‘Cougar’
for women implying predator…WTF????
☛To show that there are women out
there all over the world just getting on with being their awesome selves,
regardless of age and other peoples expectations and judgments upon them. Doing their best to walk to the beat of
their own drums.
☛ To demonstrate that age IS a
number, but need not be embued with negative connotations with reference to
women - It is the age you feel
comfortable with that is relevant. A woman’s fertile years should not be
her defining ones. Once the mind-messing hormones are done with there are years
of opportunity ahead to enjoy new life adventures and experiences.
☛Get people to take an honest look at
the women (and indeed the men) they are looking to on social media for so
called ‘aspiration’ and ‘validation’.
The letter I wrote to myself went like this:-
10th October 2016
✒My
Dearest Jeanie:
What a journey it has been, from
that illegitimate girl child of the 50’s baby boom, to
the noughties. I feel compelled to take a moment to bow down and thank my
scarred, beautiful body and soul for the miracle of sustaining my life, and of
the chance I have been given to create new life from my love of another.
This life I can honestly say, when the cheques and balances have been
weighed, has been ‘an awfully big adventure’ to quote Peter Pan - yes
brain, I know JM Barrie was referring to Peter’s impending death - but hey,
that is an inevitability of being born and it waits for us all at some yet un-designated
hour. Yes, I can feel my mortality
lurking more in the shadows, but I never allow it to dictate my life script any
more than I did when I was a youth who was convinced I knew it all and was
invincible…
This morning I stand naked in front of a full-length
mirror taking stock of the purely physical Jeanie. I hear a quote in my head
from a Beckett play:
“To have been always what I am - and so changed from what I was.”
 |
| >16-60< |
Oh my, the reflection I see is much changed from my youth, but not too shabby.
You know I could, if I allowed myself
the self-flagellation, stand here all day picking myself apart - but
what exactly would be the point? For the most part I comfortably inhabit
this age-spotted, wrinkly, lined and headed south skin with a proud dignity.
I have no wish for it to reflect back a surgically enhanced lie
about its 60 years of wear and tear, as inside I would be lying to myself.
Its physical scars and blemishes are the marks that tell me how strong I
am. That I am a survivor. For me, I want my body to look the very best it
naturally can, given this ordinary extraordinary inhabitants history.
I thank you for every detail.
Also;
☆I will bless Bravissimo, and it’s ilk for the anti-gravity lift for my bajonkas, and for the support and comfort of higher waistbands.
✩I will clothe my body in what makes me feel awesome, …and take the necessary
pain relief when I wish to strut around in those killer heels, remaining interested
in fashion as I always have been, but not a slave to its dictates.
✩I will colour my hair not because it
is grey but because I have always
loved to colour it.
✩I will wear makeup, have regular
pedicures to avoid gnarly old person feet and dentist visits to avoid false
teeth!
✩I shall till my final breath, continue to delight in
the freedom of the first warmth of the sun on unclothed skin, dance badly, walk
barefoot, delight at the sweet smell of new babies, puppies and kittens,
freshly opened bags of coffee, fresh warm bread, wild flowers and the sea.
☆I shall continue to randomly hug, kiss and cuddle those I care for - and
occasionally total strangers when the feeling overwhelms me, without
apology or edit.
✩I shall continue to kick ass, have
opinions, demand to be seen, heard and counted as the evolving, caring,
interested and engaged Jeanie I always have been. Why would I not?
My personal freedom was hard-won by previous generations of women,
the ghosts of whom I walk alongside in appreciation, feeling blessed to be a
1950’s babe. It has taken a lot of work
so me/I/Jeanie can stand nakedly, honestly in front of this mirror and
like what she sees, now with maturity recognising that each person has a unique
journey, their own demons to battle. FinalIy I see colour not just black and
white.
I feel no different at 60 on the inside, than I did at 26,
so why should the world even consider treating me any different when they
encounter the older me? Or does it? There seems to have always been
prejudices to overcome, whatever my age.
Possibly the lack of young men turning heads as I pass by now? ...Or
builders refraining from whistles and inappropriate comments?, Youf being uninterested
in my opinions?….Hardly wasting my precious time considering this as “a loss”,
which some women seem to, whilst simultaneously finding it sexist and offensive
when happening.
Confused? I am.
Some of my contemporaries seem
to take these things as personal slights and use them to support their
experience of apparent invisibility as truth,
leading them rather sadly to a self-fulfilling prophesy of low
self-worth and the reasoning behind much that they feel is unfulfilled in their
lives. Surely we have evolved further than that? As far as I am
concerned, if my 87 year old Aunt Eva can want to do a sky-dive with me - because
as she asked - “why not?”- the answer to which is (apparently); ‘health and safety’… I feel I should actively
dismiss ageist excuses and not allow them to creep up un-challenged
into my brain.
No apologies, no regrets Jeanie.
I cannot in all honesty end this without facing my… how can I put it - Less
mentally mature side. That nasty bit of me that needs constant work
and attention: That human condition of occasional bitter and twisted anger and
jealousy that threatens to take hold…
In the interests of self-reflection,
I acknowledge I have harbored these emotions over the years, I cannot deny it and the truth has to be faced. Enforced stern,
honest words with my darker self usually (not always) result in bin-bagging the offending, offensive, wrinkle causing negativity pretty
darned sharpish. Otherwise it eats away like acid and etches itself onto my
soul and into the way I express myself to the world.
I need to continually address it, iron the frowns (or resting bitch
face as my daughter Amber so kindly puts it), ship it out and move
on. However, always, ALWAYS I refrain from the familiarity of recidivist
activity, life's wind-ups and temptation regularly lead my human
self to the outer edges of reason and it is natural to seek comfort in the old responses, never stepping outside….
“I have had many crises in my
life - most of them in my head”. Wise words that stay with me as a reminder to
keep perspective. Always re-group and re-evaluate what
and who you are my dear.
With thanks in abundance from you to you.
Remember to love yourself old girl.
❤Jeanie
❤
☞Fuelled by Cadburys Fruit & Nut ✈
Who says we vanish from view post 50?
