An Open Letter To Aging Women: That’s You

I was watching a youtube video the other night (it was a beauty video) and the woman — a beautiful 45-year-old — shared how sad and depressed she had been the day before. The reason she was so depressed? She saw a picture of herself that was taken that day and hated how old she looked. It had pushed her into a spiral of self-hatred and self-pity and the only way she knew how to deal with it was by going to sleep.

I read some of the comments from her viewers and was saddened by the majority of them: “You should be more grateful, think of the alternative,” or “Age is a privilege denied to many,” that sort of thing. Although I’m sure they were well-meaning, these comments only serve to diminish the enormity of what some of us feel when it comes to the loss of our youth.

It occurred to me that telling you this story about someone who is struggling with aging and its effects could be comforting to you if you’re struggling too. So I write this letter to her and to all the women who are stumbling through the aging journey feeling lost and powerless and alone.

This letter is for you.

I know how it feels to look in the mirror or at a photo and see someone older. I know what it’s like to delete picture after picture in the hopes of getting rid of the evidence of aging and then having to come to terms with the evidence that remains on my face. I also know what it’s like to experience guilt and shame over having those superficial thoughts. You should be more grateful! Think of the alternative! Age is a privilege denied to many! Those too, are the beats in my own head whenever I go down the I-look-fucking-old rabbit hole.

I believe that you, like many women, are suffering in silence, shamed by the belief that vocalizing your sadness over aging will make you appear vain and ungrateful in the eyes of others. We, as women, have bought into the false narrative of acceptance when it comes to getting older when what we are really searching for is empathy when we question that idea. We hope that if we someday confess our fears about growing older and sadness over the losses, they will be met with understanding and compassion, and not with criticism.

We all just want sisters in the fight against time.

The painful truth is that aging sucks. Getting older is like being shoved into a barrel of shit that doesn’t have a bottom (which is much different than being shoved into a barrel of wine). It is true for me, and it is also true for many women who are mourning the loss of their youth.

Aging robs us of our identities, our vigor, our dreams, and our future. And if that weren’t bad enough, it takes our looks along with it. And whether we want to admit it or not, looks matter to most of us.

When you turn into a late-model version of yourself and are hurled into the unknown, it is not so incomprehensible to feel what you feel. Your fear is justified, your sadness over what aging has done to your face and body is understandable. It’s an end of an era.

When I noticed my first signs of aging, it was life-altering. I became obsessed with doing everything I could do (and afford) to get rid of them, to rewind. Reversing the signs became the thing that defined my late 40s because it was the thing that kept me clinging to a younger me, the thing that gave me hope, the thing that gave me confidence, the thing that gave me the illusion of power. And it was the thing that gave me another chance at youth. And I took it — without asking for permission or for anyone’s opinion— because it was what I needed (and still need) to help me feel better about myself and to get me through my transition into middle age.

We’re hurtling through time faster and faster, seeking a way to slow down the clock and to hold on to our identities as young women just a little longer. But some of you hide your mess because you don’t want to admit to anyone that you are unhappy with the way you look because you have been told (mostly by other women) that you are supposed to age gracefully and be an example of good self-esteem to your daughters. So you may get Botox or fillers or lasers and you don’t tell anyone about it. Or worse, you do nothing at all and let time mark your face with lines and crevices until you’re so disheartened with the way you look that you no longer linger in the mirror or bother to wear makeup or wear something cute or fix your hair. You stop trying. You give up. You let yourself go.

But the choice is yours.

You can either throw your hands up in defeat or you tackle the shit out of aging. If you choose to fight it, throw everything you have at it, even if you are only fighting a short battle, even if you will eventually lose that fight, even if you already know the outcome. Because every little win against time is still a win.

Every wrinkle you erase takes you just a little bit closer to believing you have power over something that renders you powerless. It makes you believe that you can extend your youth for just a bit longer so that you could get used to it slowly, have more time to accept what is happening. It’s your grace period…a vital piece of the survival puzzle.

That you’re concerned with looking younger doesn’t make you vain, that you lament the loss of your youthful face doesn’t make you ungrateful for the life you’ve been gifted. The two can co-exist. Gratefulness and vanity don’t have to be mutually exclusive. When the choice is dying young or aging, of course, you will choose to age. But given the choice, you’d choose youth. We all would.

So don’t listen to those people who tell you that you should be grateful for having the gift of aging. Of course, you are. Don’t let others shame you into thinking you’re superficial or don’t appreciate your life. You’re not ungrateful. You’re just afraid.

You alone get to decide how you deal with your aging.  If you think that having a smooth forehead will bring back your confidence, do it. If filling in your deflated cheeks helps you feel like your youthful face is back, fill-er-up. Do it for you. Do it because in doing it it will bring back more than the volume you’ve lost — it will bring back your spark. And that spark will spill over into all the parts of your life and it will be a light to those around you.

Within the fear and uncertainty and loss of aging, there is always the possibility of acceptance; the recognition that life is a gift and growing older is a privilege denied to many.  But acceptance can only happen on your own time and in your own terms. In the meantime, until then, it’s okay to want to look in the mirror and like what you see.

So for all of you who aren’t sure, it is possible to want to look younger and still feel blessed that you get to grow older. It is possible to live a beautiful life, one that includes you getting older in it and still want to look the best that you can. It is also possible to be a strong independent woman and have a little bit (or a lot) of vanity. It is equally possible to be a feminist and have the desire to be desired. We are all in the most private places in our hearts desperate for more time. One more night at the ball.  One more chance at youth.

You’ve earned those wrinkles and you’ve also earned the right to remove them —without shame or guilt or apologies.

So if you want to look younger, do whatever you can to look younger. That’s what women have done throughout time and that’s what we’ll continue to do.

Do it because you want to — because not doing it will force you to face something you’re not yet ready to face. Do it because it will give you your youth back even if it’s only an illusion. Do it so that when you stand in front of a mirror and meet your own gaze every ounce of self-loathing over something you didn’t want in the first place will be soothed by your ability to do something about it. Then after you do it, tell someone you did it. Someone who may be struggling with the same insecurities and fears and who just needs to know that there is no shame in wanting to look younger. Be her permission slip.

Do it so that all of us might express the truth that we hate that our bodies and our faces have shifted and changed and drooped as a result of aging, but that we might find solace in knowing that these feelings are shared and accepted and just a part of what makes us beautifully human.

xoxo