I’ve been experiencing stiffness in my neck for weeks now. I’ve explored the various and sundry reasons why such a thing might occur (i.e., my pillow). After a good deal of thought and significant anxiety and a neck that seemed to be getting worse by the day, I concluded that it’s almost entirely stress related.
Yup. That’s right. I am literally causing the issue my neck. Why? Well, it’s not on purpose, obviously. The last thing I’d want is to feel like a tin woman every morning when I wake up.
I want to tell you that my stress is attributable to something meaningful and profound. Sure, I’m feeling extremely lit up by the state of our government/country and the rampant hatred, everywhere. Work has been pretty high octane. Also, I have friends and family members who are in various stages of dealing with varying levels of crises. And then there’s my own relationships to reflect on.
It’s not any of that. I mean, sure. It’s some of that. But really, it’s something altogether different.
I have had some physical symptoms lately that have led me to believe I’m having some sort of physical change due to my age. Nothing is all that dramatic and of course, I’ve not formally confirmed anything. And still, it’s something. Of that, I am certain.
Anyway, I shared this recent revelation with some girlfriends of mine and my little share sparked an entire conversation about aging. Actually, if I’m being specific, the chat specifically revolved around the aging process for women.
I am well aware that there are many, many books that address these concerns. There are also websites and influencers and medications galore. Although there are certainly exceptions, mostly everything out there is about coping and hiding and changing and managing. What there is very little of is acceptance.
There is almost no leeway or wiggle room when it comes to women really embracing the ways in which their body and minds and lives shift as they age. Someone is more apt to tell you to go ‘under the knife’ or take a pill, rather than explore the idea of welcoming a rapidly and unpredictably shifting physical form.
People seem to be in an endless battle against rounded tummies and under eye circles and teeny forehead lines and neck wrinkles. There is no end to the money we will spend to battle thinning hair and brittle nails and more prominent leg veins.
I want to be crystal clear and share that I am in that majority. I have invested and purchased and attempted and suffered for my so-called beauty.
I have and I’m certain that I will continue to.
The thing is that something shifted in me when I considered the changes my body is undergoing. For a moment or two, I was much more concerned with the contributions I have made and the legacy I’m establishing, than the possibility that I could one day have a bunion or hemorrhoids. I didn’t care that I wasn’t as firm or tight or sparkly as I’d like to be, but my soul was on fire when contemplating who I really am and what I’ve done and what work there is still left to do [as I enter this phase].
I am not suggesting that I’m devoid of concern for my physical appearance or that there aren’t elements of aging that freak me the fuck out. I’m not and there are- no question. I’m just saying that I wish I could find myself more present in the moments where I care more about my substance than my packaging.
It’s really hard sometimes because there is little to no support for these very helpful flights of fancy. Sure, my girlfriends feel the same for the most part, but I had to bring up the topic. I had to broach a subject matter that generally, women aren’t keen to jump into. We want to talk about all the things related to aging and how we can fight them off with a cosmetically charged stick, but we don’t want to talk about what it means to lean into it all.
By the by, I’m not suggesting that men don’t struggle with these issues and others when it comes to aging, but I am a woman and thus, I am only really qualified to speak to my feelings.
Anyway, the issue is not my immediate circle. Not really. It’s everything outside of my circle. It’s all the shit we talk about all the time. Social media and regular media and everything in between. You have a number of actresses that will boast that they are comfortable going au natural, and sure, they have published a photo of themselves sans makeup, but by the way, they’ve had Botox or plastic surgery, or their “naked” photo has been relentlessly airbrushed.
I am not shaming women who have made these decisions. Please again, refer to my words above whereas I told you that I have engaged in all the things that I could get my hands on and afford. I have participated meaningfully in the uphill battle that is appearing young while time moves along. I have.
I am also not making any promises here that I’m suddenly not going to care. I am not here to tell you that I don’t want to dye my hair or purchase cosmetics or try that new exercise class. I just think there’s a line somewhere and admittedly, I’m not really sure where it is these days. I think that I am far harder on myself than I need to be, but there’s also this irrational but ever-present fear that maybe if I let up, it will be just a hair too much. I don’t know how to find the middle and I’m scared that the in between looks like “giving up,” whatever that really means.
It’s hard to separate my feelings from the environment I have been bred in. I don’t really know what the world looks like as I age outside of the paradigm I am well familiar with, and so, I don’t think I’m really in a position to guide or advise.
That said, I am committed to trying to figure something out. I might buy the latest night cream but also, I want to make sure that I can say I’ve helped people in my community. I want to know that I’ve made a difference in a significant way and that while rosemary oil for the scalp is brilliant, my contributions always rank higher than my follicles.
It’s so hard and I’m sure I will spend a lot of time feeling unsure and inadequate, but I also think that I’ll get closer to a healthy neck and a sense of peace and once in a while, the purest form of happiness that arrives just after doing good.
Let’s not just age prettily. Let’s age well.
You feel me?
x
L.
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