Young woman characterizes older women as 'brave' for daring to keep on living
"I will now make these ancient humpback witches my icons, YAS, etc."
It’s humor day on the newsletter and I simply cannot with women who are anywhere south of 39 having some sort of crisis about aging! Which I’m sure is how women over 60 feel about me having some sort of crisis about aging! Which honestly, fair! It’s almost like there are some sort of structural and/or cultural reasons that make us all turn on one another over the fleetingness of our youth which is all bound up in our societal value but, oh well, I guess we’ll never know!!
AS I TURN 29 I’M SO INSPIRED BY THE BRAVE CRONES WHO’VE GONE BEFORE ME
As I prepare to turn the page on my youth-youth and enter adult-youth, I want to give a high five — gently though, so as not to break their brittle bones — to all the women who’ve decided to bravely go on living even though they are no longer 29 like me.
I can’t imagine what it’s like to be over 30 never mind over 50 but I assume your teeth just disintegrate like limestone in vinegar, your knees grow beards, and you can climb trees using just your yellowed and hardened toe claws. Still, these ramshackle ladies inspire me.
That’s why I, a dewy rosebud of a gal, am shouting out these ancient witches and all they’ve achieved, like daring to be seen in public with their actual faces which I will now characterize as brave.
I am theoretically springing into action as a pro-ager and vow to Insta-honor how I will one day — far, far, very far, incredibly far into the future, so far I can’t even quite see it in my mind’s eye right now — age gracefully. Mostly because I assume when I’m old I’ll more or less look like I do now, just richer.
Before you think wow I want to slap her, I’ll have you know that I’m already feeling my age. Last week I felt a slight twinge as I was getting out of bed and although it turned out to be my cat playfully swatting at my firm and supple side I thought is this aging? And just this morning I couldn’t quite make out the instructions on my light-therapy mask but that’s because I was almost rendered blind by acrobatic morning sex and I thought but this is aging, right? And at this very moment I can’t remember if the correct description for how I currently look is “smokin’ hot” or “fire”. Obviously, this must be aging. So, to all the weathered womenfolk please know: I see you, I hear you, and I am unclear on what aging is.
I owe some of my groundbreaking new attitude, which I will now also characterize as brave, to the many famous female carcasses that keep washing up on the shores of popular culture. Whenever I see Frances MacDormand I think, well, good for her. And when I see Meryl Streep I think, well, look at her. And when I see Patricia Arquette, Gillian Anderson, Viola Davis, Laura Dern, Iman, Jane Fonda, Emma Thompson, or Keanu Reeves’ girlfriend or really any even remotely age-appropriate partner for a Hollywood man, I am mostly thinking some combination of well good for her, look at her, and well well well, still alive and not hiding it I see.
Also, I’ve been surprised to learn that just regular non-famous hags date men who are handsome and accomplished and those men date them back on purpose. I did not expect this. I will now make these regular crumbling women my icons, YAS, etc.
I just want to make one thing clear—I am a feminist. I am a feminist who champions the handwringing-about-aging vibes of effortlessly hot women my age while simultaneously shouting out the women who are older than us for clearing the bar of not looking like hideous monsters. Way to go, sweetie! I think older women like being called pet names that remind them of their youth and also their pets. I don’t think it bothers them at all to be spoken down to in such a condescending way, as if they’re children again but worse. In fact, it probably helps jog their memory or at least take their memory out for a short and careful mosey around the neighborhood using a walker with those tennis balls on the legs.
Lastly, I want to make one thing abundantly clear—I am not afraid of getting older. I am terrified. But I will forever be grateful to my elderly elders, these ex-young women who have so bravely and unwittingly led the charge for greater crone visibility through their amazing efforts at not dying while also not being ashamed to still be alive. Get it, Gamma!
NEW FROM ME
I have a new essay in the excellent, gorgeous and bold new magazine Mother Tongue. Read and see more about this issue and get your copy here!
THINGS FROM ELSEWHERE
• I will always be grateful to Lennon Parham for being an early supporter of my writing, we were even going to do a book event together last year! Buuuuut she couldn’t because SHE WAS BUSY SHOOTING THE NEW SHOW MINX THAT I AM NOW COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH! I love her character Shelly so, so, so much.
• Ugh this interview is just fantastic: “Maggie Gyllenhaal Wants to Tell the Transgressive Stories of Motherhood” on the Sway podcast from The New York Times.
• “A curious thing happens when you offer up your life for public consumption: People start to interpret your biography, to explain to you what they think it means. At book signings, in interviews, I’m often told that my story is uplifting, that I am a model of resilience, an ‘inspiration.’ Which is a nice thing to be told, so I say thank you. But every so often someone takes it a bit further, and says something to which I do not have a response. I’m told, ‘You are living proof of the American dream, that absolutely anything is possible for anybody.’ But am I? Is that what the story means? After being tired, here’s what I remember most about being poor: a pervasive sense of costly trade-offs.” This op-ed is just excellent, read the whole thing here: “I Am Not Proof of the American Dream” by Tara Westover
• I absolutely remember reading this interview when it came out. And I am once again asking you to subscribe to this newsletter if you love this sort of shit like I do. Every single one is, as the kids say, a banger: “The Gossip Reading Club: Issue Twenty One - When Bradley Met Taffy”
• This is a beautiful, touching short doc from The New York Times: “At ‘Grief Camp,’ Kids Learn to Process Loss Together.”
• I thought I’d love that recent friendship article in The Atlantic but honestly I loved the followup much more! “Margaret Atwood on Envy and Friendship in Old Age” in The Atlantic. h/t to my former high school varsity cheerleading teammate who I haven’t seen in probably 30 years for sharing it with me. Life, man!
• An awesome and very Vermont-y story (and yes you can SHOP THE LINKS): “A 16-Year-Old Wolcott Student Forges a Career as a Blacksmith” in Seven Days.
• I was utterly swept away (no pun intended) by this story, no lie sitting on the floor in my office listening to the radio like it was The Olden Tymes. Oh my gosh, I just cannot recommend it highly enough: “The Synchronized Swimmers” from This American Life.
• Have you ever heard of carrier snails? I had not! They collect shells (and coral and sponges) on their … shells 🥺️🥺️🥺️ I love these little hoarders/maximalists/fancy lads so much.
You can find my books here. You can find my writing here. You can find my copywriting and creative direction work here. You can find me on Twitter. You can find me on Instagram. Please do not find me in real life, I’m very busy aging 👩🦳️
As a 44 year old lady with coworkers in their 20's I take my hat off and bow to you for this perfect summation.
Mostly because I assume when I’m old I’ll more or less look like I do now, just richer.
If my elderly knees would only allow me to run away fast, or really at all, I would print this out and give it to all the youngsters who annoy me. Thank you so much for writing this. I turned 50 last year and I was honey'd and sweetie'd nearly to death at my last doctor's appt, but I had neither your wit or words so I just endured it. And the woman was clearly late 30s/early 40s, which made it even more mind boggling. I could only think, fuck off, I'm not your grandma.