About Aging

 Although I have never seen Star Wars, nor the latest movie, I did find myself following the comments comparing the way Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher have aged.  Our society seems to think men age better than women, but I disagree.  I believe we simply have a different standard by which we judge the sexes.  Some folks do age better than others, and while some may remain attractive, their health isn't necessarily better . . . The late Paul Newman is a perfect example of this statement.  We've allowed ourselves to be programmed by Hollywood, in that men can remain leading men throughout their careers, but a leading woman in her twenties and thirties is usually relegated to supporting actress by the time she hits her forties . . .

I believe this claim is really based on the premise that men are more visual than women, therefore a feminine youthful look is considered to be more attractive.  The truth of the matter is, there is a certain attractiveness in youth that fades as we age, but there is also a light of seasoned wisdom that comes with age which has a different but obvious attraction . . . in both sexes.  Statement of fact, unless a man is aging like Sam Elliot or Denzel Washington, we regular women notice the not so perfect traits of the aging average man, just like men notice our changes.  For the record, Steve Harvey and George Clooney are also aging well.  Obviously I'm using Hollywood as the standard of attractiveness for one simple reason, the names and faces are recognizable to most everyone, and if you don't recognize the name, they can all be "Googled."

We women are quite capable of assessing physical qualities and just like men, we do take note of the deterioration.  Now, this is not all men or all women, but I do think even though both sexes know deterioration does occur, most women would rather not be with someone who is in dramatically better physical shape than they are in.  We've all seen an older guy with a younger woman . . . and admit it, the first thought is, "he must have money."  If he doesn't have money, we begin to analyze what her issues must be . . .  I think our society has programmed or at least encouraged the thinking that a partner is an enhancement of one's own image.  Older men with younger women seem to think the younger woman gives them a more attractive presence.  I'm realistic enough and practical enough to know if I were on the arm of a man, two decades my junior, I'd just look old and silly.

At 57 years of age, I can see that everything on my body is not what or even where it used to be, and although some may still consider me relatively attractive, I'm never mistaken for 30.  I do think men have a greater confidence in their aging process, which may come across as more attractive, or in many cases ignorantly arrogant.  I can't speak for all women, and although we may not be as visual as men, we aren't blind!  I have been somewhat aghast at some folks who really seem to see themselves in a much better light than the rest of us notice.  I've seen middle aged couples that have caused me to wonder more than once, what one must have seen in the other . . . and then I see some who look very much equal in the way they are aging, be that well or . . . equally, not so much.  It's as if they have maintained the same speed and direction.

Sadly, I think our society has just become very superficial.  I know one gal who is always talking about physical appearance and considers herself to be quite attractive.  I refer to her with a special dichotomy.  She is "deeply superficial."  I do not consider myself to be a superficial person, and there is certainly more to a person than their physical appearance.  There is one trait that is absolutely necessary for me to find a man attractive and that is a good strong work ethic.  I don't care what color his hair is, or even if he has hair.  Nor do I care what he does, be it white collar or blue collar, but a work ethic is vital.  At this point in life, I'm blessed to know several retired men who retired from respected careers and remain quite active.

A gal named Donna Lou Stevens wrote a song that is not only entertaining and enjoyable, but speaks the heart of so many women.

Vanity?

I tend to think vanity is used to address a problem in women, while pride is more masculine, although both genders can engage in vanity and pride; and both are bad.  As of late, I've heard everything from a woman shaving her legs to bridgework and false teeth; labeled as vanity.  I'm old enough to remember when women's slacks were considered immodest and skirts had to be at the knee, not to mention the make-up issue.  Now there are the head coverings, swimwear debates, and proper blousing discussions.  Sometimes all this modesty seems to be rather vain.  Some of the modesty these days is beginning to look a bit too Islamic for me.

Invariably the modesty discussions on social media seem to really draw attention to the woman's body, face, and hair style.  I've gotten to the point, perhaps it's age, perhaps it's my track record, I'd just as soon answer all the questions posed, and volunteer all the potential subjects of blackmail that could occur.  Since Mr. B has no qualms about putting me on the spot, and I have one daughter who has a history of publicizing confidentiality, I figure whatever they know could appear on social media at any time.

 I cover my head, but my hair hangs long . . . except when I'm gardening and cooking, for practical reasons.  My hair is long past my waist. It gets hot and in the way in the garden, and nobody wants a four foot strand of hair in their dinner.  Scripture doesn't speak specifically as to the definition of modesty, but does mention a woman's long hair is her glory and to pray or prophesy publicly, her head should be covered.  Some scholars believe that to mean her hair is her covering . . .  Since I'm unsure, I don't cut my hair, and when I'm in public, my head is covered.  I've heard several other viewpoints and I don't argue them, nor do I feel the need to agree.

As for attire, I do wear a skirt and top with an overblouse.  I've read discussions on how high the top should be, the concern about cleavage, etc. when a woman leans over.  One discussion even addressed concern when gardening, that a woman could cause a man to lust by the way she held herself through the weeding or harvesting.  I don't carry it to that degree.  When I get dressed, no cleavage is showing at my neckline . . . as the day wears on, I just hope nothing sags beneath the hemline of my top.  Although I don't publicly announce it, I'm quite buxom and since my kids know my bra size, I don't consider it to be a secret.  Nor do I consider honesty to be immodest.  If somebody wants to know something, just ask.  I don't mind telling the truth, nor do I mind telling someone straight out, "it's none of your business."

I am in a quandary when it comes to swimwear.  I really enjoy swimming, but my last few years as a lifeguard in my early 40s did make me feel a bit self-conscious in the uniform suit.  I've since gone with a sort of swim dress type suit, but I certainly wouldn't even consider trying to swim in the presence of the Torah modesty crowd.  Does that make me a hypocrite?  Maybe . . .  What I have discovered in reading and observing these modesty discussions, is at least for me, I think my modesty is based more upon self-consciousness than morality.  I simply don't see myself as evoking any lustful feelings in any man.

Many of the dresses, skirts, and nearly all of the headcoverings really do seem to be making a fashion statement, and trendy fashion can be quite a display of vanity.  It's as if modesty is a fashion trend, rather than a matter of the heart.  I don't see myself getting into the covering competition or modesty pageant.  I've always considered a modest woman to be one who is dressed appropriately, gracious in her demeanor, and simply unfocused on herself.

An Interesting Dream

Most of my dreams seem fairly insignificant.  I do have a few that I recognize to be of spiritual significance, but I really don't have all that many memorable dreams.  I do, however; dream in color.  Having now used three sentences to say nothing, let's get to the point.

I dreamed I was speaking to a group of young women.  In the dream I was aware that all of these young ladies had some sort of inferiority complex in regard to their appearance and/or shape.  The group, as I remember, was basically average.  No one was dramatically beautiful or intensely homely.  The young women were not what I would call obese, but all indicated they were not pleased with their weight or their appearance.  They were all in search of "something" that would make them more attractive, which was to be the topic of my presentation.

As I spoke, I produced past photos of myself through the years.  This would be very out of character for me, in that I consistently hated to have my picture taken, always feeling fat and ugly.  With each photo, I gave my age and basic life circumstances at the time.  The presentation was somewhat interactive, so the girls made comments and asked questions throughout.  With each explanation on that trip down memory lane, a different girl would raise her hand to offer some sort of acknowledgement or insight.  It was amazing how many of the girls just couldn't understand why I had such low self esteem in those photos.  I responded with the same question and comment to them.

In the dream I seemed so natural and relaxed, which in and of itself is odd . . . One photo, stood out amongst all the others.  It was a wedding photo in which I was so thin, my complexion was ashen.  They asked me how I felt about myself at that time, and I answered honestly.  It was the one time and last person who made me feel desirable, but . . . I was really sacrificing my health to be that size and more importantly, by then I realized, I was counting on him to make me feel like a woman.  Ultimately, when the new wore off and it was time to just be a couple, I blew it.  He loved me, or at least tried to love me, for who I truly was.  My youth and weight made no difference to him, but my inferiority complex was so deep, I couldn't grasp that.   As I shared that with the girls, they fell contemplatively silent.  I could see their wheels turning.

In sharing the last wedding photo, I shared with the girls that I truly thought I "had it together" spiritually, emotionally, and was physically comfortable in my own skin, until . . . my honeymoon was a disaster and I found myself hanging on by a thread, spiritually.  I clung to Messiah.  Many times over, I found myself quoting the Psalm about the Rock that is higher than I.  Something had to change, and I was obligated to my circumstances.  It would take me a full 10 years to realize my self-image was not based upon how someone else, that man, looked at me.  In 2012, I looked in the mirror, finally happy with the reflection looking back.

As I moved out from behind the podium, I stood there 57 and full figured, and simply stated.  "I like myself the way Abba created me to be.  Being content is beautiful!"