Skip to main content

Insult to injury


Add insult to injury.
My hair is gray. AND thinning!!!

And to pile on to my grievances, I am losing weight but most of it appears to be coming from my face and breasts.

Yikes. I'm having a difficult time feeling like the hot-mama I used to be or to trick myself into believing I still am.

Hell, the wheelchair definitely doesn't help.

On a recent bar-hopping excursion (when we crashed our friend's anniversary celebration), we went to several establishments I frequented in my younger and wilder hot-mama days. It was a night of dichotomys. The me that I was would have never looked twice at the me that I am. But I so wanted to jump out of my skin and chair and celebrate like I used to. Okay, maybe not exactly like I used to (I am after all 50 something and the mother of three adult children), but just for a moment and without any recriminating video proof!!

But now I'm getting over myself as I realize nearly every woman over 50 probably feels something akin to what am feeling. Mine is just exacerbated by the wheelchair. We feel loss - a loss of visibility in a way. Loss of sex appeal. Loss of an identity in a way - while my confidence in who I am has increased, my confidence in my appeal has diminished. And most days it's not a big deal, but that night I felt the loss acutely. 

But then I woke up the next morning to John bringing me coffee and a day full of life 'outside my head'. Pity party was over.

But the insult is that aging isn't always pretty. 

BUT, I am.

Wheelchair, thinning gray hair or extra 20 pounds or not. I am pretty. 

Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

When an ass is so much more

  Body image. Body positivity.  Or about coming to an appreciation for a previously much maligned back end.  In junior high (that's middle school for all of you non boomers), I was given the nickname "big butt Bowen". It was a nickname that stung because I did indeed have a large ass. I tried to mask it, a difficult endeavor since the current fashion (and remember this is junior high when fitting in was paramount) was wearing hip hugger jeans with midriff tops and my disguise of choice were peasant blouses or dresses. That style choice earned an additional nickname, Mama Cass. For those of you that don't know who Mama Cass was, she was part of the Mamas and Papas and known for her beautiful voice but also for her large body.  All about Mama Cass I was cruelly nicknamed at a time when nicknames can really mess with a girl's psyche. And I spent a lifetime as that girl with the messed up psyche. I'm sure there are more than one of you out there that can relate. B...

Fall of Giants

I've long been a fan of historical fiction and just this past Christmas I received from my son Michael Ken Follett's most recent book, Fall of Giants. It is the first book of a trilogy that covers the 20th century and the first installment covers the early 1900s up to just after World War I. It includes characters based in Russia in the time of their revolution. While I studied the Russian Revolution in college, this book brought much back to me - including the chaos that reigned for years leading up to the revolution and continuing throughout. I write about this today because the Egyptian revolution reminds me of the Russian revolution. The Russian revolution started out quietly and largely as a protest against a harsh and autocratic government - the Tsar. The Russian people didn't have a say in their government and were very poor while the royalty in Russia lived large. The secret police in Russia often killed and imprisoned people for no apparent reason and there were ...

Vulnerability hangover

I recently blogged about my own #MeToo experiences and then went silent. (At least on the blog). Those posts have been read by over 1000 people, and that's a lot for this tiny little blog about living a life with MS and God and with a sense of humor. Suddenly, I felt like I was living in a world where people that read my blog had x-ray vision and could see my nakedness - but I didn't know who they were. It wasn't a good feeling. And then I heard someone discuss Brene Brown, in particular what she describes as a 'vulnerability hangover'. It's essentially the feeling of regret, like after a night of binge drinking, when you think "What did I do/say?" and then "I think I'll just hide out from the world." If you've never had that experience, kudos to you. It's shame, pure and simple, ugly and raw. So, now I'm on a Brene Brown binge, including all of her TED talks. Including this one on shame:  Brene, listening to shame ...