Which Old Woman Do We Want To Be? We’re Too Old to Still Wish We Were Young

I’m having a slow Saturday, having worked out hard last Thursday morning and managing to pull the hell out of a few muscles. The only response is to lie down and stop already, even when my puppy demands to go out and play. Mommy can’t right now. Gimme a day, ‘kay?

That’s not aging. That happens to us any time we decide we’re going to try a brand-new exercise and do it a few too many times. The body talks back.

So I took a rest day. Read a story about losing the male gaze as we women age, especially for those who once wielded the pretty card.

Then, two things came to mind. Okay several things.

First, the male gaze in my case unfortunately resulted in the very worst of privileged male behavior. For my part, I am very glad to be done with it. While the pretty card, what little of it I might have had, gave me a pass now and then, these days I use humor, good manners and a high level of engagement to get some of the same outcomes.

I find that if I show real interest and curiosity in people, it’s returned, but I can’t compete with smooth skin and pert bosoms. That ship has sailed. If you’re competing for service with the PYT at the bar, all you can do wait is for the little brain to stop taking over the big brain and…