Mom 3.0 ~ Aging Gracefully
Most women deal with the hidden fear we will turn into our mothers. Even if we get along with our moms and think they’re great, we still want to avoid it at all costs.
This is the hidden driver behind much of the plastic surgery and heroic efforts to stave off aging, lose weight, color away the gray, and stay in shape. Contrary to popular belief, all that isn’t vanity or insecurity, and it’s not advertising that dropkicks us into wide-eyed panic. We look down at our hands one day and say, “OMG! How did my mom’s hands wind up at the ends of my arms!” Then we lift up those arms and gasp at the wrinkley glob hanging from what used to be a perfectly toned muscle. And off to the store we go.
Age gracefully? My ass. That’s what 30-something little darlings say. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll EVER care about crows feet.” Yeah, well I don’t either. I actually LIKE my crows feet. They’re cool and they say I’ve lived. It’s that turkey neck and that deep crease between my eyes that says I scowl waaaaay too much.
Unfortunately, the industry that caters to our insecurities knows this all too well. I was at a women’s luncheon recently. The sponsor was a plastic surgery office. One of the docs came up and said, “Nice chin. Who did it?” I said, “God.” Thinking I was out of the woods, I started eyeing my escape. Then he reached out his hand and waggled it under my chin, moving some skin very perceptibly and said, “I can get rid of that in my office in just a couple of hours!” (Oh No He DIDN’T! – Oh yes he did!) I mustered a smile and lurched away towards the bar. I don’t drink at lunch, mind you. Except in cases of dire need. And this was one of them. “I can get rid of that in my office… how DARE HE?”
I spent the rest of the afternoon looking at recent pictures and trying to see myself in different angles in the mirror. I found if I stand a certain way the turkey neck goes away. That will have to do for now. I’ve avoided looking at mom’s pictures next to mine just in case they look a little too much like each other.
But then, in a sane moment, I realized it is not mandatory to become my mother. Perhaps I can be an updated, improved, healthier, more conscious, and happier version of her. Perhaps I can take all her great qualities: her spunk and wisdom, and turn those into a better version of both of us. Then I don’t need to be bugged by the creeping realization that I’m turning into her. I’m the new version. I’m Mom 3.0!
I feel much better now.
How about you?
Cheers,
Beth
© 2012 Beth Terry Seminars, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
This is hilarious and scary at the same time. I had a similar experience with a customer in the store where I work. A young woman…maybe 45-ish…came up to me and whispered that she was going to have some work done on her chin (she was with her mother and didn’t want her to hear). I asked her why? Her response was…wait for it…”doesn’t it bother you?” WHAT? What happened in my head and what I said were two different responses…what she heard was “NO!” I thought what you thought…really…do I look that bad? When I composed myself I realized that I like my face, sagging neck and all, and that it’s been good to me for nearly 66 years, and will be with me until I transition. Wouldn’t it be nice for all of us women to just age gracefully and love ourselves at ALL stages of life? And by the way Beth, you look AWESOME!! Neither of us will ever turn into our mothers…
Hi Pepper – thanks! Yeah, it takes awhile to get it, and it takes awhile to realize we won’t “turn into them.” They are who they are and we are who we are. All our life experiences and our healthier lifestyles make us 3.0, — not to mention more information about how food, cosmetics, and supplements affect our appearance. I was so concerned I’d look like her that I forgot to celebrate the spunky, funny, and feisty woman who inspired me to be the same.
One day I was moaning that I wished I’d gotten grandma’s dancer legs instead of mom’s “sturdy” legs. I expected the old, “I hated my legs until I met a man with no feet” lecture. Instead she said, “Grandma’s legs gave out on her in her 60′s! I’m still going strong with mine in my 80′s!” And she was right. I may not have dancer legs, but I am strong and healthy and that’s something as we age.
So – yeah, it would be nice for all of us to look in the mirror and love what and who we see. Those wrinkles tell a story!
hugs,
Beth
Great one Beth! I don’t have any wrinkles, I have laugh lines and I think it reflects the joy I seek in life!
Hi Sylvia – thanks for reading. I like my laugh lines, too. I remember the watergate trials when John Dean’s wife sat stonefaced during the whole thing. Later she told a reporter something on the order of, “I figure if I never show any emotion, my face will remain beautiful.” YIKES! That’s taking fear of aging and fear of life a bit too far. It says, “I’m only beautiful if I haven’t lived!
Beth, I am taking my grandma’s advice and using only glycerine soap. Glycerine keeps leather soft and it’ll do for me. Plus I’m starting early, not waiting til I’m grandma’s age.
Trish – I love it – makes sense to me! I know my mom has only used vaseline on her face for 70 years. She looks pretty good at 90. I figure I can take that and just using a little better face cream I’ll do way better. I’m also doing “Facercise” by Carol Maggio http://twurl.nl/jlkh4t I started doing that 20 years ago. And I don’t look a day over 90 myself! ;-D