Looking for My Huge, Freaking Sword of Awesomeness
Wednesday, February 24, 2010 I'm trying to work out this issue I have running in my head. It's all messy up there, being a mushy blend of fears about my own mortality, the reality of ageing, and the difficulty of viewing myself as being on the decline. I'm trying to separate out my own ideas of beauty and success from my culture's images of beauty and success, and they are so bound together, it turns out, that it's going to take some work to come to a point of any clarity.
I don't actually believe the hype about youth and perceived sexual availability, but I find that I judge myself against this yard stick constantly.
We live in a culture that values youth and beauty as some kind of innate success in women and value them above any other kind of active, intelligent success. I could be intelligent and creative and even rich, but if I was larger than a size four and over 25 years old, I would be like day-old bread: still good, but you probably wouldn't serve me to guests.
I was lying next to the Palinode in bed the other night, and something hit me.
"Hey?"
"Yeah?" he said.
"I'm 37."
"Yeah," he said.
"I am at an age where I am not going to get physically more beautiful."
"What do you mean?"
"Little girls are raised with so much pressure to be beautiful and, not only that, to become more beautiful, and I knew when I was a little kid that I would never be a raving beauty, but there was always this hope, even into my early thirties, that I would hit a stage of being really beautiful and not just passably okay looking. I'm good with being okay looking, but it's weird to know that what I do now to be attractive is more to maintain what I have and not lose it than it is about hoping to grow into more beauty."
"Huh."
"I'm not a kid hoping for the future anymore. The kind of beauty I used to hope for when I was eleven pretty much reached its zenith already. And that was a while ago. Middle-aged women either end up looking like they're trying too hard or they're lesbians in this hyper-feminized climate."
"True," he said. "And we all know which side you fell on."
And then I didn't punch him in the face, because I love him THAT much.
I do realize that there are different kinds of beauty and that we can't all be measured against some 21-year-old, white-toothed, bouncy-boobed ideal. Hell, I don't think I ever could be measured against that ideal. I don't even particularly like that ideal.
Still, though, that ideal has been firmly implanted in my brain over the last 37 years, and I'm not alone in this. It has been implanted in most of your brains, as well, and it is bound up with our ideas of worth and success, because most of the women we see publicly as being successful are women who maintain a very specific ideal of sexiness.
And please don't throw Helen Mirren up as an example of an ageing woman still being viewed as successful and beautiful, because she meets the requirement that is sexual allure, as evidenced by leaked pictures of her in a bikini. She passes our test for generally accepted fuckability. Not that she is primarily measured against that, but, if not for her continuing fuckability, I doubt that we would still be paying attention to her in the same way, talented or not.
I want to measure myself in terms of things that do not involve my fuckability.
This is the rub. I never really wanted that kind of youthful beauty, the kind that pointed to fuckability, because I had this internal life that was more real to me than my external life, and I had this need to be seen beyond what my body had to offer, but now I am 37 years old and beyond that point where my body just accidentally, because of its newness, falls into socially accepted fuckability. My body's not terrible, but I would have to work pretty hard to mould it into that kind of more youthful shape that used to be effortless.
My body is no longer accidentally hot, but this is not really what I'm worried about, either. It's that I feel like there's a loss of power in my waning fuckability.
I guess I have become aware that I am really moving into my mid-life, and my new wrinkles and silvering hair and the way my body is subtly rearranging itself keeps pointing out how I'm not where I was and I'm not growing up anymore. The future isn't a magic thing that will happen to me on the other side of puberty or romantic love or what have you.
It has never been more clear to me how nearly inextricably bound together ideas about beauty and success are when it comes to women in our culture. I have not ever fit that idea, both by nature and by choice, but now that I have come to a point in my life where accidental youthfulness is conceding to accidental middle age, it is also becoming clear to me how much I need to redefine success for myself and carry that success like a huge, freaking sword of awesomeness to trump the red herrings of youth, socially accepted beauty, and the allure of publicly perceived sexual availability.
The future is now, it turns out, and it's a bit jarring.
Reader Comments (33)
Mirren & Judi Dench are of an age and similarly talented. Dench does not hit the benchmarks of which you speak but we still pay attention to her. Would we be paying attention to Mirren in the same way, goggling over those artfully marshalled hooters? No. But I do think we'd still be paying attention to her.
I don't fear losing my looks or my sexuality as much as I fear losing -- no, giving up -- pieces of my self that are deemed silly or superfluous for a woman in her late thirties. I take pictures, I go to shows, I write about music, things that have been a huge part of who I am for the past decade or more and now I have to give them up because I'm no longer in that 18-34 age group?
Kizz, there are always exceptions to the rule, but it doesn't negate the rule.
And, yes, I like to think that we'd still be paying attention to Mirren, because she's amazing, but would her career have even existed in nearly the same way? I doubt it.
I grew up in a hyper sexualized city (Miami Beach) where I really didn't fit in with the look. It took a long time for me to get to a point where I was ok with that and realized I had my own good looks that didn't involve being in a bikini on a boat. But I agree with you that reaching that conclusion is one thing, realizing that youner folks are starting to look right through and past me and that I can't necessarily flirt with the bartender for a free beer is a TOTALLY other thing.
Growing up is a strange, strange thing, whether you're growing up our of adolescence or growing up out of youth! I'm consoling myself with the fact that the free beer probably would have thrown me over the edge into a hangover tomorrow anyway.
Wow. You've pretty much summed up what I've been feeling myself lately. Now that I am rapidly approaching 40 and watching my own fuckability wane, I find myself looking to that other thing that I'm supposed to have that makes the loss of youth and firmness seem immaterial. I'm a little freaked out... Ok a LOT freaked out that I don't really think I have it. Sure I'm a decent human being with a knack for a thin or two, but I'm not going to be winning awards. I'm on my own quest for my sword of awesome and I think I'm lost; though something tells me it's burried inside me somewhere. What sucks the most is knowing that looking like I'm trying too hard would be easier.
I'm really grateful to you for writing this. I've reached the age where a woman becomes invisible - people simply look past me. It's amazing, really. It's to the point where I can have problems walking through a crowd because no one is moving out of my way. It takes a physical nudge for them to move....
I'm not really any different, I just *look* different. And that's enough to matter, it seems.
I think the degree to which so much is made of the Helen Mirrens of this world only supports what you're saying. There's always something faintly patronizing in the coverage of older women with sex appeal.
Anyway, I've discovered that we become more interesting as we grow older. Our faces line, our hair speckles or vanishes, and gravity finally claims us. But once you're in a room with someone and you've shed all your clothes, the body is always beautiful, regardless of what our culture commands us to worship.
This is such a good post. It's jarring to realize you're in the future. That THIS is your life, and it always will be. Not even just the body you're in, but the things you do, the things you become. You're them.
This is why projects like Shape of a Mother need more visibility.
And Judi Dench is still fuckable. I don't even think she's an exception to the rule.
This is such a thorny thing to grapple with. So many dimensions of it. I keep thinking I've reached the bottom--I want it RESOLVED--then a new aspect to it raises itself.
There is a dimension that's about sexism and women's place in the world. Then there's this other dimension that's actually about mortality and our inability to face it. Then there's a practical dimension about how to live, physically, in the world, with this strange change. For years I wore op art miniskirts and all sorts of similar flashy attire. I mean, even up until maybe my mid-thirties. Then, when I could not, I simply switched to jeans since it was so easy and efficient.
I do think there is an element of self-definition. I was smart enough to want to be a lesbian for this reason even in my twenties because then you escape a little of the bullshit--or you have a head start over heterosexual woman. Not that I was lucky enough to actually be a lesbian.
Seriously, I could go on. There are real depths to this issue about being alive and being human. There's a shocking dearth of information about how to arc through the ordinary human lifespan and experience it in an optimal way. All the information is about forestalling aging, which, for obvious reasons, is not that useful since it is an utter illusion.
I'm trying to figure out (call me dumb) why "middle aged women either end up looking like they're trying too hard or are lesbians." Or why you'd be "lucky" to be a lesbian. Although: I'm gay and I find middle aged women have so much more fuckability, and are so much more eye catching and attractive - in every possible way. Hot. Just hot. Did I just answer my own question?
You know you have a virtual Huge Freaking Sword of Awesomeness here in Cyberspace, right? That within the Wide World of Web YOU ARE MIGHTY and your peers and subjects bow to your imposing majesty.
Maybe if you slew more trolls in the physical realm?
God love you for this post! With all due respect darling Schmutzie - 37 - how I wish! You are exquisite. Truly. Please KNOW that!
I will be 60 in six weeks. Having survived "terminal" cancer twice in my life, I am so utterly blessed. Yet am at the age where I look and they don't look back. While never a raging beauty I did get my share of attention, and I admit I loved it. Am I still fuckable? I dearly hope so. After not having been touched by my husband in 8 years (having been married for eight and a half), and his not willing to talk at all as to why, oh yes, I hope I still have intimacy (erotic, hot, fucking, intimacy - oh yes) in my future. I'd not want to think that was over at 52.
And...the crepey neck, the chicken skin on the back of my hands, the weird drape under my arm, the random dark spot on my face....I have managed to live to see it. Can one be thrilled and horrified at the same time? I'm here to tell you yes.
At this stage I look better fully clothed or naked than in undies or a bathing suit (god forbid) and have always been happy with my body. Still - I am aware I am fast becoming invisible, and it's difficult to reconcile the emotional with the intellectual aspects of that.
I am also here to tell you in 22 years (when you are my age) you will look back at 37 and how glorious you were (are) and wonder how in the world you didn't absolutely celebrate that.
Do. Oh please do. All of you. You're divine. Utterly, totally divine.
Never forget it.
Barbara
i hear you. i turned 38 last month. and i am way more culturally femme & codified fuckable than i ever was in my oblivious pudgy teens or my army-boots-20s. and it is nice, the power of this, i have to admit.
i was dumb enough in my 20s, mind you, to believe it was never gonna get better after that - which DID help me recover from an eating disorder, as i got on the "hell, i might as well learn to love my body cause it ain't gonna get easier" bandwagon at 24. thus the past 14 years of wielding relative public sexual power (very relative, but whatever) has all been gravy.
but the realization that the gravy train is drying up, that the grace period is done? still hard.
luckily, it's not where my primary self-image lies. i don't think. but then i doubt it is for you, either. and still...hard to relinquish.
it saddens me to know that older women are thought of as invisible. and yet i can see how, given the way we fetishize the narrow bandwidth of sex appeal propogated by People Magazine et al.
Barbara, you kick ass. Thank you for reminding me. I didn't know I had it at 21, and now I look back and wish that I did. There will be a day when I will look back at 37 the same way.
Invisibility or not, I've got more power than I know. Thank you.
the same people who found me unattractive when i was 18 would probably find me unattractive now. i was never the kind of pretty that i wanted to be.
that being said, at 42, i feel more attractive than ever. i am not sure why. maybe i feel like i am on a more even playing field with those that are losing their 'traditional' beauty, while i still have my brain and my wit and my confidence.
i do think this is an important conversation. aren't we the majority now? can't we get all of us old people to stage some sort of societal beauty standard coup? i'm in, if you are!
ps: you're gorgeous, by the way. i met you last year and was just a little spellbound.
All the gender stuff in here is so fascinating. I'm intrigued with your selection of a huge, freaking phallic symbol for your awesomeness. I hope you keep thinking out loud.
Wow, this was hard for me to read. I want to think I'm so super-feminist that the idea of Fuckability™ doesn't enter my mind. But, oh, dear, I guess it does.
I must say, though, part of me likes the trading Fuckability™ (I'm not going to stop trademarking that) for invisibility. Being in your twenties in NYC means being a constant target, for comments, groping, etc. I think I look better than I did then, frankly, but I'm not looked at as an object anymore, and that's okay by me.
Surely there's power in being invisible? Because then aren't we like ninjas?
Deb, flattery will get you everywhere :)
I turned 35 last year and started feeling exactly the same way. Not only am I more critical of how I look but I also started questioning what exactly have I done with my life and will I look back to regret things I haven't done. Right now I feel like that answer is yes. I'm working on that now. I have a lot of fear to push through.
Thank you Barbara for your response. Well said!
You know, in the Grand Scheme of Things, you're very, very young. In fact, one of the things that I'm noticing is that my perception of beauty is getting better as I get older. I've always found people in their "middle earlies" more attractive than teens/twentysomethings. In fact, I've got to the point now where I feel I'm just beginning to really be "beautiful".
Maybe that makes me effed up. More effed up. I dunno.
But you *are* getting more beautiful. Don't measure yourself by ridiculous standards, and you'll see it too.
Cenobyte, I feel the same way! Younger people are starting to look weirdly unformed to me. Lacking in character. Embryonic. And I'm only in my early forties.
My mom says that she felt the most beautiful when she was in her fifties.
You never know what's next, Schmutzie.
HAH! my freakin awesome sword is in my room. A double handed toledo steel half bastard sword and if anyone tries to tell me that at 48 my fuckability is waning it will FUCK THEM UP.
I am a feminist, and a WOMAN, and a sexual creature by nature, and my desirability is an essential part of me that I have, thanks to the warped perspective of society's view of my overly large self, tromped on and put down for almost 7 years.
Society is wrong. Fuckability is in your mind, her head, his head. HAH! Sorry made myself laugh there.
If you believe you are desirable it comes through loud and clear in movement and tone, and you my dear are not on the wane.
It's those pretty young thangs that really don't have a sniff ;)
These are almost the identical words I said to my husband just a short while ago. Right after I turned 52. I have come (slowly) to accept that I will never have that moment when I enter a room and everyone stares and thinks how beautiful I am. I will never be drop dead gorgeous. I've always been ok looking but now I'm happy when someone expresses surprise at my age. "You're 52? You don't look it". My response is yes, I do. THIS is what 52 looks like on me.
I recently joined a gym to make myself more healthy. It's not to make myself look good in a bathing suit but to make myself look good after I run up a flight of stairs (no one looks good doubled over and gasping for breath). It's weird to think that I have lived longer than I have left. And very sobering.
I've found that many people I know and don't know, both men and women, who age naturally and are comfortable with aging, are often MORE beautiful than those who try to fight it and they're also often more beautiful then when they were younger. I don't think many people see this about themselves but people who are comfortable with their age exude a sort of confidence and acceptance which I find very attractive. Maybe I'm the only one out there that feels this way. I hope not.
Also, I think that, not matter how old you are, you can change your body, you just really need to put in the time and effort. I'm 34 and I'm now in better shape than I was in my 20's and I know I'm going to carry that into my 40's. I trained a woman in her 50's who lost almost 70 pounds and feels better now than she had ever felt in her life. If that's not something people want to do than that's totally cool but I believe it can be done.
Anyways, I hope you start feeling better. I've always thought you were beautiful and also one of the most interesting people I've ever met. I guess it depends on what kind of people you're wanting to attract.
It is quite eye opening to realize through your words that I am subconsciously hoping that one day I will wake up and understand my body, my beauty, my sexuality.
Maybe I can take your eloquent articulation and apply it to my life now.
Instead of waiting for my beauty, sexuality and womanhood to spring forward or improve I should start by loving and accepting this woman I am today.
Thank you for this, it was so wonderful.
wow. Having turned 40 (happily) this past month I also had the realization that now I have entered the age that although I am still attractive I am not the one who will be turning heads when I enter the room anymore. I am the age where to general public women start to become invisible.
The younger bit beside me will get more attention based on her meeting the criteria a bit better.
I am still successful and very happy with me. I do know that less people are going to be seeking me out to find those things out however.
Do so love your blog and your observations.
-NaturalBlu
Again, you are spot on.
I'm also 37 and average-looking. I've never been beautiful, and I'm sure I never will be. It doesn't bother me at all though. Appearance-wise, I'm just aiming at clean and not hideous.
And I don't really wish to be younger, or look younger. I had my turn to be 20, I had my turn to be 30, now it's my turn to be 37 and other people are having their 20s. One day I'll get to be 60 - I wonder what that's like?
The only thing I fear with aging is being sick or weak and not being able to do the things I want. I don't really care how I look doing them, but I think it will be a blow the day I can no longer see well enough to drive, or balance well enough to climb a ladder, or whatever. Maybe there will be other compensations? Who knows.
I love what you said in this post and I love how you said it. I hadn't thought about it before the way you explained it.
I actually enjoy getting older, of course you do have to work that much harder but I am okay with that.
I think about how dumb I was at twenty five and no great ass or beautiful looks would make me want to go back there.
Like a fine wine...
Sadie at heyMamas
I hate how fat I've let myself become but I don't feel that getting older has made me invisible. I feel that the only thing that's made me really fundamentally unattractive is having let my body become so distorted from over-indulgence. My lines, my grey hair, these things I enjoy. I never felt comfortable with fuckability in the first place so it's not something I ever valued or used as my yardstick.
While all of you are expressing that you feel yourself growing more invisible as you age I find it curious because I actually notice middle aged and older people more. Especially older people. I always have. I really really see them and I hated being young and it was the greatest surprise to find myself turning 30 ten years ago when I actually never expected to live past 17 years.
To me older people, the ones who value themselves and see themselves, are incandescent in a way that young people can never be.
Maybe it's just because I am so loud, opinionated, and spazzy, but people always see me. I don't think any of them want to screw me, but I can't mourn something I never had.
That was colossally inarticulate of me.
I think I'm mostly just agreeing with Barbara.
I think people become invisible to themselves before they become invisible to others.
Wow, people really worry about this garbage?
I love being 55 -- I'm lumpy and gray and wrinkly and wear comfortable shoes, and my guy still thinks I'm the hottest thing going.
Stop thinking about yourself. Start living.
... aaaand Michael Sheen drives home Schmutzie's "Helen Mirren" argument. Thanks for clearing that up, Academy!