I'm 58, and I have to say I'm still waiting for the negatives. I entered menopause with only a few skipped periods/heavy periods, no hot flashes or other symptoms (I occasionally get sweaty at the brow line). My hair doesn't have quite enough grey to use permanent dye, I use a Demi permanent box dye (if I were rich I would be highlighting as well). My skin is oily, so I am still breaking out regularly (again, I am 58!) but am fairly unwrinkled.
Is it weird to say I never liked attention on me, so if I'm receiving less attention out in the world I haven't noticed/don't care? The only time it annoys me is when I'm not greeted when I enter a retail store: I'm in retail, you say hello to someone when they come in the door. A girlfriend and I walked into a Brandy Melville store to check it out in advance of my young adult daughter coming to visit and we were flat out ignored by the five trendy young adults who worked there. The store was empty, they were talking to each other and couldn't be bothered. We were clearly not shopping for ourselves (Brandy Melville is a teen store that carries ONE SIZE in every item), were clearly there to shop for daughters and they couldn't acknowledge us. That bothered me. You don't want my money? Fine. (Turns out my daughter had tried on their clothes in the past and don't work for her).
I feel like the anti-aging thing is really rooted in a fear of death. The scary part of aging isn't just "oh no you're not young and sexy anymore"—it's that, followed by "and now you remind us of our impending mortality which we don't want to think about at any cost." Which, of course, is a vicious circle, because the less we talk and think about mortality, the scarier it becomes. Caitlin Doughty ("Ask A Mortician" on YouTube, author of several books, and founder of The Order of the Good Death) is big on tackling the taboo of discussing death and death care. If that resonates, check out her work! She's great. (Full disclosure: I knew her in college, but we weren't close. I just really appreciate the work she's been doing.)
This is such an interesting conversation. I'm 37 and only just beginning to think about aging and that has come with me learning more about anti-fat bias and rejecting diet culture, so the two are very linked in my mind. Since I was young, I've always balked at beauty standards like shaving and makeup, more specifically, doing them because that is what is expected to fit in. For me, as a lifelong fat person, I think I've felt a lot less pressure to do that stuff. If you've never had the privilege of being in an "ideal body" anyway, it feels easier to push back on other beauty standards; since the world doesn't find you beautiful or valued to begin with, they won't notice or care as much if you don't do all that other stuff. (It's important to note that this is not a universal fat experience, as I think many fat women, in particular fat women of color, are pushed in the opposite direction of conforming to a hyper feminine beauty standard to "compensate" for their fatness or skin color.) I realized that I will be supremely annoyed at myself if I am in my 60's, 70's, 80's and still using so much brain power and energy on the size of my body or the food I'm eating or the wrinkles on my face or my gray hair like so many female relatives I have and decided to stop caring so much. This realization has been easier to arrive at because of covid isolation and the fact that I am a stay at home parent but as I start thinking about reentering the workforce, I see these issues becoming a lot harder to navigate. That being said, one thing I always admire about older women is the total lack of fucks given about many things, and I'm really looking forward to that (and trying to move towards it now)!
Good parts of aging (for me and friends): we’ve become wiser about what matters, when to be embarrassed. Our emotions fluctuate less. We are far more sensitive to beauty in the world, especially in nature. Mixed parts: we are assumed to be harmless. We call this old lady privilege. Just walk into controlled places, you hardly ever will be stopped. This is useful. Bad parts: all you said and more! The assumption that you want to look like younger people, think like younger people, act like younger people. Demands that you exercise more, diet more. (My sister stopped this in my mom by asking her if she wanted to look like Nancy Reagan. ) Discomfort with changes in your body that are natural. It’s not just what you weigh that is policed but how it is distributed. And the least speakable: that you have to want sex in the same ways always. People! myob, let other people be!
How can I age while being exactly how I’ve always been? I feel that. I’m glad you counseled me to let others do what they want to do with the their bodies (duh). My best friend is planning a trip to Mexico to have extensive surgery on her body and I’m freaked out about it. But, she’s unhappy with the way she looks and she’s entitled to do whatever she needs to do to feel better about herself.
I really enjoyed this conversation. The only thing I felt an internal push back toward was the lumping of strength training with not eating carbs. I’m a personal trainer and have worked a gym that serves mostly clients who are in their 50s-90s for over 13 years. I know strength training is often marked as a great way to lose weight, but it’s also very important in helping people maintain and regain independence as they age (if they want to and have the means to). I’ve just seen how it positively impacts elders and their quality of life, ability to live independently, etc. so I hope it’s not written off a just a diet culture fad.
Hi Virginia, I was loving this conversation, as a 48 year old in a bigger body with a 74-year-old mother who is on a perpetual diet. And then I read this: "It’s like, you’ve given up some relevancy by becoming a mom, right? Even though you’ve obviously had sex to become a mom, you are somehow now not a sexual being, not desirable because you’re a mother." I had to stop reading. This is heterosexist. It's exclusionary. It makes adoptive parents invisible. And the rest of the sentence is so true, but there are so many ways to become a mother that have nothing to do with having sex. Sigh.
My mother grew out her dyed hair during covid and she has mentioned how much more she gets the condescending "sweetie" stuff from cashiers etc now. (And her silver hair looks great! When she started dying her hair, it was very salt and pepper at the time and she said "This in-between is just making me look washed out, and my choice is to dye my hair or wear makeup to bring more color into my face, and I'm not wearing makeup." And she was absolutely right that once her hair was all the way silver, she's not washed out at all.) But she is of course the worst offender on body issues in my life -- in fact right before I read this I was having a conversation with my husband where we planned meals for her visit this weekend, and it was like "we're eating brunch in a restaurant on Saturday, so she's going to be complaining that everything was so rich and she ate a piece of potato and so on, so what can we have for dinner that will be good and be enough for us but not bring on another round of complaining about how 'evil' she's being to eat it?"
I’m 59. One of the ideas that has occurred to me: If a rule pertaining to age/ability/my body/fat is not helpful I will work to dismantle its presence.
I wouldn’t change my 59 year old self for my twenties. My earlier life was hard, I worked so hard to prove myself and I never fit in. No way would I go back there.
One idea that I have solidified into a principle for living is that getting older is a time of great power. Of course I had to figure out my relationship with power and its meaning. Not power, but presence and the ability to decide how I want to age. The power to make my own rules, stop shaving my legs and armpits, eat what my body needs intuitively, most importantly, stop being SMALL. Stop thinking I am small and should tiptoe about like I used to-to avoid drawing attention to myself, avoid causing trouble, avoid being noticed. (Did a lot of that in my younger days and it never worked).
Now, the old saying “Walk softly and carry a big stick” works. What kind of big stick? My body and me, belonging unapologetically in the world. Zero fucks given. Playing air guitar, singing loudly, doing dashboard drums in the car-especially at traffic lights or where people will see.
I don’t quite have the physical stamina of younger times, am a size 2x, have aches and pains and sags and bags. I take a few medications for a chronic condition. I wake up with back pain and hip pain. I work with and talk with my body, so it will tell me what I need, in that day. Most days I do some light yoga and movement. I read, paint, write, and run my aromatherapy business.
Zero fucks given. I’m here. I belong.
Thank you for Burnt Toast, and thank you kindly for reading!
I admitted in an interview last year that I'm pretty sure having to confront ageism is what made me understand anti-fat bias. I don't like that that's true, and maybe it's just a correlation, not a causation, but the two things happened in the same time frame. I've always been pretty up front about my age because it's public knowledge, but also -- and I have VERY mixed feelings about this -- because I don't look like what people think a 64-year-old should look like. Because, of course, that "compliment" is ageist. I generally tell people two things about my appearance: It's pretty much genetics, sunscreen, and the fact that I don't diet. Also, I have a 12-year-old, so people do the math and just assume I'm younger, and maybe they think I look terrible for the age they have assigned me in their heads. Probably!
As for menopause, I'm happy to see it getting more public discussion, sad how quickly it's become an opportunity to sell women more shit. My advice, which sounds simple but is not, is to find a great doctor ASAP. The ob-gyn I found just after I turned 61 really helped me; I FOUND HER IN AN ARTICLE IN THE AARP MAGAZINE. Do not try to Google your way to menopause care, do not read the book by the woman who became an anti-vaxxer, which has way too much stuff about dieting. Find a doctor and learn how to talk about EVERYTHING. My biggest regret was that I white-knuckled my way through the first five years of menopause.
I'm a big fan of the Substack newsletter, How Not to Fuck Up Your Face. Science driven, but it goes along with what Debra Benfield mentioned, that bodily autonomy is bodily autonomy and some people are going to get facelifts, other procedures, and that's fine. I made a pledge with another woman when we were both in our '50s never to do it and she's pretty famous and I am so proud of her for keeping her word. I have, too, but I'm not famous and no one really cares what I look like. Every now and then, I yearn to zap my "11." But the mood always passes.
So complicated! It is differentiated by race. In my experience all elders are more respected in communities of color. When I was first living in a majority Black community I was stunned by the respect older Black women commanded and used. I wanted so much to learn that. For white women dealing with white people OLP is a weapon of the weak: you don’t see me, you don’t see my power, I will use that. I has a guerrilla quality.
I really enjoyed this conversation and so much of it resonated with my life as a 51 year-old perimenopausal woman, who’s also working through a lifelong relationship with yo-yo dieting and disordered eating. It’s a lot to be tackling both at the same time, but a good use of these years! I’m definitely feeling excited about leaving a lot of the bullshit behind me as well as my periods! 😉
I'm 58, and I have to say I'm still waiting for the negatives. I entered menopause with only a few skipped periods/heavy periods, no hot flashes or other symptoms (I occasionally get sweaty at the brow line). My hair doesn't have quite enough grey to use permanent dye, I use a Demi permanent box dye (if I were rich I would be highlighting as well). My skin is oily, so I am still breaking out regularly (again, I am 58!) but am fairly unwrinkled.
Is it weird to say I never liked attention on me, so if I'm receiving less attention out in the world I haven't noticed/don't care? The only time it annoys me is when I'm not greeted when I enter a retail store: I'm in retail, you say hello to someone when they come in the door. A girlfriend and I walked into a Brandy Melville store to check it out in advance of my young adult daughter coming to visit and we were flat out ignored by the five trendy young adults who worked there. The store was empty, they were talking to each other and couldn't be bothered. We were clearly not shopping for ourselves (Brandy Melville is a teen store that carries ONE SIZE in every item), were clearly there to shop for daughters and they couldn't acknowledge us. That bothered me. You don't want my money? Fine. (Turns out my daughter had tried on their clothes in the past and don't work for her).
I feel like the anti-aging thing is really rooted in a fear of death. The scary part of aging isn't just "oh no you're not young and sexy anymore"—it's that, followed by "and now you remind us of our impending mortality which we don't want to think about at any cost." Which, of course, is a vicious circle, because the less we talk and think about mortality, the scarier it becomes. Caitlin Doughty ("Ask A Mortician" on YouTube, author of several books, and founder of The Order of the Good Death) is big on tackling the taboo of discussing death and death care. If that resonates, check out her work! She's great. (Full disclosure: I knew her in college, but we weren't close. I just really appreciate the work she's been doing.)
This is such an interesting conversation. I'm 37 and only just beginning to think about aging and that has come with me learning more about anti-fat bias and rejecting diet culture, so the two are very linked in my mind. Since I was young, I've always balked at beauty standards like shaving and makeup, more specifically, doing them because that is what is expected to fit in. For me, as a lifelong fat person, I think I've felt a lot less pressure to do that stuff. If you've never had the privilege of being in an "ideal body" anyway, it feels easier to push back on other beauty standards; since the world doesn't find you beautiful or valued to begin with, they won't notice or care as much if you don't do all that other stuff. (It's important to note that this is not a universal fat experience, as I think many fat women, in particular fat women of color, are pushed in the opposite direction of conforming to a hyper feminine beauty standard to "compensate" for their fatness or skin color.) I realized that I will be supremely annoyed at myself if I am in my 60's, 70's, 80's and still using so much brain power and energy on the size of my body or the food I'm eating or the wrinkles on my face or my gray hair like so many female relatives I have and decided to stop caring so much. This realization has been easier to arrive at because of covid isolation and the fact that I am a stay at home parent but as I start thinking about reentering the workforce, I see these issues becoming a lot harder to navigate. That being said, one thing I always admire about older women is the total lack of fucks given about many things, and I'm really looking forward to that (and trying to move towards it now)!
Good parts of aging (for me and friends): we’ve become wiser about what matters, when to be embarrassed. Our emotions fluctuate less. We are far more sensitive to beauty in the world, especially in nature. Mixed parts: we are assumed to be harmless. We call this old lady privilege. Just walk into controlled places, you hardly ever will be stopped. This is useful. Bad parts: all you said and more! The assumption that you want to look like younger people, think like younger people, act like younger people. Demands that you exercise more, diet more. (My sister stopped this in my mom by asking her if she wanted to look like Nancy Reagan. ) Discomfort with changes in your body that are natural. It’s not just what you weigh that is policed but how it is distributed. And the least speakable: that you have to want sex in the same ways always. People! myob, let other people be!
How can I age while being exactly how I’ve always been? I feel that. I’m glad you counseled me to let others do what they want to do with the their bodies (duh). My best friend is planning a trip to Mexico to have extensive surgery on her body and I’m freaked out about it. But, she’s unhappy with the way she looks and she’s entitled to do whatever she needs to do to feel better about herself.
I really enjoyed this conversation. The only thing I felt an internal push back toward was the lumping of strength training with not eating carbs. I’m a personal trainer and have worked a gym that serves mostly clients who are in their 50s-90s for over 13 years. I know strength training is often marked as a great way to lose weight, but it’s also very important in helping people maintain and regain independence as they age (if they want to and have the means to). I’ve just seen how it positively impacts elders and their quality of life, ability to live independently, etc. so I hope it’s not written off a just a diet culture fad.
Hi Virginia, I was loving this conversation, as a 48 year old in a bigger body with a 74-year-old mother who is on a perpetual diet. And then I read this: "It’s like, you’ve given up some relevancy by becoming a mom, right? Even though you’ve obviously had sex to become a mom, you are somehow now not a sexual being, not desirable because you’re a mother." I had to stop reading. This is heterosexist. It's exclusionary. It makes adoptive parents invisible. And the rest of the sentence is so true, but there are so many ways to become a mother that have nothing to do with having sex. Sigh.
My mother grew out her dyed hair during covid and she has mentioned how much more she gets the condescending "sweetie" stuff from cashiers etc now. (And her silver hair looks great! When she started dying her hair, it was very salt and pepper at the time and she said "This in-between is just making me look washed out, and my choice is to dye my hair or wear makeup to bring more color into my face, and I'm not wearing makeup." And she was absolutely right that once her hair was all the way silver, she's not washed out at all.) But she is of course the worst offender on body issues in my life -- in fact right before I read this I was having a conversation with my husband where we planned meals for her visit this weekend, and it was like "we're eating brunch in a restaurant on Saturday, so she's going to be complaining that everything was so rich and she ate a piece of potato and so on, so what can we have for dinner that will be good and be enough for us but not bring on another round of complaining about how 'evil' she's being to eat it?"
I’m 59. One of the ideas that has occurred to me: If a rule pertaining to age/ability/my body/fat is not helpful I will work to dismantle its presence.
I wouldn’t change my 59 year old self for my twenties. My earlier life was hard, I worked so hard to prove myself and I never fit in. No way would I go back there.
One idea that I have solidified into a principle for living is that getting older is a time of great power. Of course I had to figure out my relationship with power and its meaning. Not power, but presence and the ability to decide how I want to age. The power to make my own rules, stop shaving my legs and armpits, eat what my body needs intuitively, most importantly, stop being SMALL. Stop thinking I am small and should tiptoe about like I used to-to avoid drawing attention to myself, avoid causing trouble, avoid being noticed. (Did a lot of that in my younger days and it never worked).
Now, the old saying “Walk softly and carry a big stick” works. What kind of big stick? My body and me, belonging unapologetically in the world. Zero fucks given. Playing air guitar, singing loudly, doing dashboard drums in the car-especially at traffic lights or where people will see.
I don’t quite have the physical stamina of younger times, am a size 2x, have aches and pains and sags and bags. I take a few medications for a chronic condition. I wake up with back pain and hip pain. I work with and talk with my body, so it will tell me what I need, in that day. Most days I do some light yoga and movement. I read, paint, write, and run my aromatherapy business.
Zero fucks given. I’m here. I belong.
Thank you for Burnt Toast, and thank you kindly for reading!
I admitted in an interview last year that I'm pretty sure having to confront ageism is what made me understand anti-fat bias. I don't like that that's true, and maybe it's just a correlation, not a causation, but the two things happened in the same time frame. I've always been pretty up front about my age because it's public knowledge, but also -- and I have VERY mixed feelings about this -- because I don't look like what people think a 64-year-old should look like. Because, of course, that "compliment" is ageist. I generally tell people two things about my appearance: It's pretty much genetics, sunscreen, and the fact that I don't diet. Also, I have a 12-year-old, so people do the math and just assume I'm younger, and maybe they think I look terrible for the age they have assigned me in their heads. Probably!
As for menopause, I'm happy to see it getting more public discussion, sad how quickly it's become an opportunity to sell women more shit. My advice, which sounds simple but is not, is to find a great doctor ASAP. The ob-gyn I found just after I turned 61 really helped me; I FOUND HER IN AN ARTICLE IN THE AARP MAGAZINE. Do not try to Google your way to menopause care, do not read the book by the woman who became an anti-vaxxer, which has way too much stuff about dieting. Find a doctor and learn how to talk about EVERYTHING. My biggest regret was that I white-knuckled my way through the first five years of menopause.
I'm a big fan of the Substack newsletter, How Not to Fuck Up Your Face. Science driven, but it goes along with what Debra Benfield mentioned, that bodily autonomy is bodily autonomy and some people are going to get facelifts, other procedures, and that's fine. I made a pledge with another woman when we were both in our '50s never to do it and she's pretty famous and I am so proud of her for keeping her word. I have, too, but I'm not famous and no one really cares what I look like. Every now and then, I yearn to zap my "11." But the mood always passes.
So complicated! It is differentiated by race. In my experience all elders are more respected in communities of color. When I was first living in a majority Black community I was stunned by the respect older Black women commanded and used. I wanted so much to learn that. For white women dealing with white people OLP is a weapon of the weak: you don’t see me, you don’t see my power, I will use that. I has a guerrilla quality.
Thank you, thank you. So much here to think about.
Millennial daughter with a boomer mom and I appreciate how this made me see things more from her perspective.
I really enjoyed this conversation and so much of it resonated with my life as a 51 year-old perimenopausal woman, who’s also working through a lifelong relationship with yo-yo dieting and disordered eating. It’s a lot to be tackling both at the same time, but a good use of these years! I’m definitely feeling excited about leaving a lot of the bullshit behind me as well as my periods! 😉