Looking into the mirror. I realised that I was becoming unrecognisable.
A creative spirit existed trying to break out. My eyes cried help me is this all there is? The greying of hair associated with age or experience (to put it kindly) started to show in areas that I wish it wouldn’t.
I remembered being in a state of shock when I saw my first grey hair. No one prepares us or tells us. No obvious wrinkles yet it’s in the genes. I try to bring out my gratitude list. How many mature women toddling in high heels and wearing knickers that defy gravity (breathing in constantly so that their bellies don’t roll over the top to show the unkind bulges) feel like this in solitary moments looking in the mirror.
Returning from routines in which we know deep down that we should be winding down from and kicking off those heels with relief and breathing out from the restrictions of those tight knickers.
What does one wear when approaching the menopause?
So that when arms are lifted in the office or on a shopping trip the sweat patches don’t show. And how do you keep cool to prevent the beads of sweat running down your face and ruining your make-up? Although sweating is a natural bodily function, women aren’t supposed to sweat. Yet another demand!
Those of us who are brave enough will share these thoughts in private but pretend in public as we cannot be seen as vulnerable and ageing is taboo. I have had many such conversations in sisterhood where tiredness and fear are apparent.
The media focuses on great mature women who all appear to have it all and it looks so easy. This is good but the truth is it is damn hard work to maintain!
Still there is an excitement about midlife. Yes, it’s true there is!
Now I recognise that I need to grow and blossom for Me and not live the expectations of others. What is important is that I am being respectful and considerate of my fellow human beings. I have paid my dues.
I am regaining and building my confidence as a woman over 50. I am trying not to live to work but to work to live.
I breathe; especially when I’m faced with the initial shock of looking at my drooping parts in my full-length bathroom mirror. I tell myself that I`m still here and open to all possibilities!
Laughing at me
Most days I burst into laughter I laugh at myself and see the ridiculous in what I previously saw as serious. I do not take myself too seriously.
I cry too It’s ok to cry.
A while back I watched Grace Jones who was famous in the 1980s on U tube. Well into her 50s she performed in outfits that revealed long gorgeous never ending legs. She made the men in the audience eat out of the palm of her hands. She is still performing in her 60s. I still have hope! I often dance to her music, especially her track “pull up to the bumper”. I don’t forget to dance!
I know that there is this mindfulness and gratitude stuff almost everywhere. Feel the water embrace your body, chew your food slowly so that you can taste and appreciate it and it goes on.
No I am not being cynical I am thankful really because I have so much.
Now I’m taking more action and doing things that I would not have done 10 years ago. I ask for what I want and do not take rejection too seriously. It’s not a nice experience being https://www.acheterviagrafr24.com/viagra-pharmacie/ rejected but it’s part of life’s journey. I learn from each experience.
I just breathe and smile.
Reach Deborah on twitter @debsbroomfield