The Landslide

I have suppressed this post for quite a while now... I didn't know quite how to broach it.  Women never fondly discuss aging.

I never believed that I would struggle with getting older.  I have never been a great beauty, like my mother, so I was sure that I wouldn't mourn a loss.  However, I recall quite clearly now something my Gran said years ago and it is so apt; youth is its own beauty.

I lived in my mother's shadow.  She was tall and willowy.  I was short with powerful thighs.  She had thick auburn hair while mine was baby fine and dishwater blonde.  She was curvy and vivacious.  I was petite and reticent.  She grew up in the deep south, where beauty was touted as a woman's ultimate gift.  I grew up in Virginia with professors families who encouraged me to get a PhD.  She spoke with a drawl.  I spoke Latin.

I kept things simple.  Minimal makeup, maybe lip gloss, and short hair.  I embraced fashion but kept a safe distance from trends.  In short, I tried not to compete.

Now I stand poised at the cusp of 40.  Suddenly, I have almost been rendered invisible.  As a young woman, I could walk into a room and acknowledge a few heads would turn... because of my youth.  Now I am relegated to Mother status.   The situation is not assisted by the fact that I am growing out my hair which now hovers just below my earlobes, thus clinching my Soccer Mom title.

And I am shocked.  I miss the attention.  I miss the position, the slight power a single young woman can wield.  I have to buy my own drinks now, damn it.  I don't have to fend off untoward conversation from leering young men.  I don't command attention.  And I am further shocked by who does... yes, youth is its own beauty.  I watched this past weekend as my beautiful late 30 something friends sauntered around the bar and stared in amazement at how the men there were fixated by women who were only under 30, even though my friends were clearly more attractive.

So what is beauty?  Can only the young hope to be considered beautiful?  What about knowledge and kindness and understanding... all of those things that frequently accompany crow's feet.

Maybe it doesn't help that I am reading the Twilight series; all those eternally young attractive vampires and a heroine lamenting her impending age.  I don't know.

Can you miss something you never had?  I was never a beauty but yes, I was young...