I love your writing! I feel like we could have a book club discussion about this story and the questions you posted at the end. I definitely felt everything in this post, right down to the burdens of being a black woman. I appreciate you having the conversation with your friend about this. It opens the dialog and allows people to assess their views on the baggage we carry. Hopefully these conversations will cause people to stop normalizing behaviors that exist in places (like Albania) where worth/beauty are tied to a size.
When I was 35, I started going grey. I had friends and family question me about why I didn't dye my hair. They kept saying having grey hair makes people look old. It didn't help that my mom and twin sister both dye their hair. I have held firm in accepting that my hair is grey and have never dyed it.
There is the emotional burden of worrying about looking old, and I believe as a society we have normalized not being okay with how we look and living up to some standard...whether it's weight, hair color, etc. Let's all try to be happy with the skin and body we're in. (And I'll be the first to admit, that I'm a work in progress on this...one day at a time.)
What a discussion it would be, and probably a very needed one, but hopefully cathartic, too. Sooooo much baggage hidden not only in weight but also, as you note, hair. We could add makeup to that, too. Heck, even clothing style. Basically, anything that contributes to how we look and carry ourselves. Gah, it's so layered. So many standards that we buy into. Kudos on embracing your gray. That's the one thing I haven't accepted (yet). I do dye my hair, though I gave up wearing makeup before the girls were born. Embracing the bodies we inhabit seems like it should be natural; may we keep making progress, whatever that looks like to each of us.
Laura, this one hit in a soft spot. ;) It's a long story, but I recently wrote a letter and sent it off to an old friend (not sure how else to say that?) that I once dated and stayed friends with for a long time through my life. He was significantly older than me, by 11 years. I believed that the relationship continued to be important.
For whatever reason, early on, I neglected to notice his criticisms of a woman's appearance and her "aging" when he himself was younger and I dated him. But later in life, as he aged, he moved to an Eastern European country known for "mail order (and young) brides" and while he worked there, he consistently dated younger women, then would complain that he couldn't find a match.
About 12 years ago, when he was visiting the states, I casually asked him why he dated younger women if it made him unhappy. He answered, "because the women my age just look old." It landed then, finally, and I could finally hear the earlier comments in my head as well. At the time, I was in my late 40s. It was the last time I had anything to do with him. I tried to comment on how it made me feel. He wasn't hearing anything from me. By then, he'd also made up his mind about me about something else.
Fast forward by 12 years and it recently seemed significant to me that I was now the age he was when he made that comment to me about "women his age looking old." And I took the time to write a letter to express how much it hurt me then. And I sent it.
I doubt that I'll ever hear back, but it felt good to shake it off and hand it back. I'm 60 now, and work very hard to stay in good shape and I don't think I look bad at my age. I don't know if I care. I want to be healthy instead.
Thank you for calling attention to what our cultures do to women with unrealistic obsessions about weight and appearance. The Korean cultures have their young women doing cosmetic procedures in their early teens. Ugh!
As for me, years ago, I decided a long time ago that I wanted to strive to be stronger than pretty. I continue to strive for that.
I'd so much rather women see themselves as strong (and strive to be so in whatever way that means to them). Thanks for sharing your thoughts and a bit of your healing process. Hugs to you.
I love your writing! I feel like we could have a book club discussion about this story and the questions you posted at the end. I definitely felt everything in this post, right down to the burdens of being a black woman. I appreciate you having the conversation with your friend about this. It opens the dialog and allows people to assess their views on the baggage we carry. Hopefully these conversations will cause people to stop normalizing behaviors that exist in places (like Albania) where worth/beauty are tied to a size.
When I was 35, I started going grey. I had friends and family question me about why I didn't dye my hair. They kept saying having grey hair makes people look old. It didn't help that my mom and twin sister both dye their hair. I have held firm in accepting that my hair is grey and have never dyed it.
There is the emotional burden of worrying about looking old, and I believe as a society we have normalized not being okay with how we look and living up to some standard...whether it's weight, hair color, etc. Let's all try to be happy with the skin and body we're in. (And I'll be the first to admit, that I'm a work in progress on this...one day at a time.)
What a discussion it would be, and probably a very needed one, but hopefully cathartic, too. Sooooo much baggage hidden not only in weight but also, as you note, hair. We could add makeup to that, too. Heck, even clothing style. Basically, anything that contributes to how we look and carry ourselves. Gah, it's so layered. So many standards that we buy into. Kudos on embracing your gray. That's the one thing I haven't accepted (yet). I do dye my hair, though I gave up wearing makeup before the girls were born. Embracing the bodies we inhabit seems like it should be natural; may we keep making progress, whatever that looks like to each of us.
Laura, this one hit in a soft spot. ;) It's a long story, but I recently wrote a letter and sent it off to an old friend (not sure how else to say that?) that I once dated and stayed friends with for a long time through my life. He was significantly older than me, by 11 years. I believed that the relationship continued to be important.
For whatever reason, early on, I neglected to notice his criticisms of a woman's appearance and her "aging" when he himself was younger and I dated him. But later in life, as he aged, he moved to an Eastern European country known for "mail order (and young) brides" and while he worked there, he consistently dated younger women, then would complain that he couldn't find a match.
About 12 years ago, when he was visiting the states, I casually asked him why he dated younger women if it made him unhappy. He answered, "because the women my age just look old." It landed then, finally, and I could finally hear the earlier comments in my head as well. At the time, I was in my late 40s. It was the last time I had anything to do with him. I tried to comment on how it made me feel. He wasn't hearing anything from me. By then, he'd also made up his mind about me about something else.
Fast forward by 12 years and it recently seemed significant to me that I was now the age he was when he made that comment to me about "women his age looking old." And I took the time to write a letter to express how much it hurt me then. And I sent it.
I doubt that I'll ever hear back, but it felt good to shake it off and hand it back. I'm 60 now, and work very hard to stay in good shape and I don't think I look bad at my age. I don't know if I care. I want to be healthy instead.
Thank you for calling attention to what our cultures do to women with unrealistic obsessions about weight and appearance. The Korean cultures have their young women doing cosmetic procedures in their early teens. Ugh!
As for me, years ago, I decided a long time ago that I wanted to strive to be stronger than pretty. I continue to strive for that.
I'd so much rather women see themselves as strong (and strive to be so in whatever way that means to them). Thanks for sharing your thoughts and a bit of your healing process. Hugs to you.