So, apparently Women are supposed to age… but not actually look like we’re aging.
Got it.
Because people can be absolutely brutal when it comes to offering unsolicited opinions about Women’s bodies, faces, hair, weight, clothes, and overall appearance as we get older. And somehow, everybody becomes an expert on how a Woman should look at 40, 50, 60, and beyond.
Meanwhile, those same opinions completely dismiss the individual journey that comes with aging.
Listen, aging isn’t easy for anybody. But being a Woman adds a little extra sumthin sumthin to the situation. We go from puberty to periods to pregnancy for some of us, changing hormones, perimenopause, menopause, and whatever other surprise our bodies decide to pull out of the hat.
And trust and believe, I could write an entire post on perimenopause alone. Actually, I probably should.
As a 53-year-old Black Woman, I am very aware of how society views women as we age. Some Women are praised for “aging gracefully,” while others are judged as though their faces and bodies are evidence of some personal failure.
“She looks old.”
“She looks tired.”
“She’s really let herself go.”
“She looks good…for her age.”
That last one? Please stop.
Why can’t she just look good?
And before deciding that a Woman has “aged badly,” do we ever stop to ask about the life she has actually lived? What has she survived? What kind of stress has she carried?
Did she have access to healthcare? Safe housing? Healthy food? Rest? Money? Support? Childcare? Time to take care of herself?
Has she spent decades caring for children, parents, partners, family members, employees, organizations, and entire communities while putting herself somewhere around number 37 on the priority list?
Our bodies don’t exist outside of our lives folks.
And for Black women especially, there is another layer to this conversation. We are expected to be strong, resilient, capable, and somehow eternally youthful while carrying responsibilities and stress that society rarely acknowledges. We are praised for surviving everything and then judged when some of that surviving shows up on our bodies.
Make that make sense.
And Women participate in this too. We compare ourselves to one another. We compare our bodies, skin, hair, weight, wrinkles, energy, and even how quickly we appear to be aging.
But what exactly are we competing for? Who can look 23 the longest? And at what cost?
Because eventually we have to ask ourselves: Will looking younger actually make me feel more worthy?
That’s the part I think deserves more attention.
We spend so much time talking about what Women supposedly lose as we age that we don’t talk nearly enough about what we gain.
Wisdom.
Discernment.
Confidence.
Perspective.
Boundaries.
A stronger sense of who the hell we are.
And, for many of us, the beautiful realization that everybody does not need to like us. Now that is freedom. Just sayin.
Even the phrase “aging gracefully” deserves some side-eye.
What does that actually mean?
Because too often it seems to mean: You may get older, ladies, but please do it quietly, remain thin, keep your skin smooth, cover the gray if there’s too much of it, stay fashionable-but not too young-and whatever you do, don’t make anybody uncomfortable by actually looking your age.
That’s not celebrating aging. That’s celebrating women who successfully disguise it. I’m not judging, just being real about it.
Language matters too. Listen to how we talk about Women over 40.
“She looks amazing for her age.”
“She’s beautiful for an older Woman.”
“She still looks good.”
Still?!
What if we simply said:
She looks beautiful. Period.
Because the alternative to aging isn’t youth. It’s not being here. Let that sink in…
And I think sometimes we forget that.
Getting older means I have been blessed with more time. More experiences. More lessons. More mistakes. More laughter. More people I’ve loved. More opportunities to figure out what matters and, equally important, what absolutely does not.
Maybe instead of trying so hard to look young, we should spend more time holding onto the parts of ourselves that make us feel alive.
Play.
Laugh loudly.
Call your old friends.
Dance even if your knees have filed a formal complaint.
Run through the sprinklers.
Try something new.
Return to something you loved when you were younger.
Be curious.
Be silly.
Be sexy.
Rest.
Take up space.
Wear what makes you feel good.
Let yourself change.
Because feeling joyful, imaginative, carefree, adventurous, beautiful, sensual, curious, and alive doesn’t belong exclusively to young people.
Neither does starting over, or falling in love, or dreaming. Or becoming more of yourself.
Maybe aging isn’t about desperately holding onto who we used to be. Perhaps it’s about getting curious about who we’re becoming.
I’m 53, and trust me when I say I don’t want to be 23 again! That Woman had some fun, don’t get me wrong. But she didn’t know what I know now. She hadn’t survived what I’ve survived. She hadn’t loved the people I’ve loved. She hadn’t learned the boundaries I’ve learned.
And most importantly…She hadn’t found this version of her voice yet.
Every line, every gray hair, every change in my body is connected to a life that I have actually had the privilege of living.
So maybe instead of asking Women how they manage to “stay young,” we should start asking something different: What has getting older given you? Because aging isn’t something we need to apologize for. ..We’re still here.
And that part right there is worth celebrating.
