Turning 50 Came With One Unexpected Rule And Honestly, I’m Not Quite Sure How I Feel About It
Beti Argi | Shutterstock I was at a dinner party recently, chatting up a small group of men and women, all of us around the same age, when someone made a joke about aging. My ears perked, and I blurted that I had just turned fifty.
They were stunned. Sadly, not for the reason I had hoped. A "No way! Seriously? I thought you were 35!" would have been nice (a girl can dream), but what I heard was equally shocking.
Turning 50 came with one unexpected rule: the pressure not to reveal my age
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One of the men I was chatting with leaned in, like talking to a naïve child, and said, 'You should never, ever share your age.' The rest agreed. My first thought was to blame it on the wine, though my glass was full.
I smiled. My lip twitched. Apparently, aging is a bad thing, and admitting it is even worse.
Anyone can tell from looking at me in my party dress that I didn't just come from prom, but putting a number on it is like the kiss of death. People know you're older than 40, they just don't want to know by how much.
When told she didn't look her age, Gloria Steinem declared, "This is what forty looks like!" Aging, for most women, is a liability after a certain point. Our wisdom is valued; sadly, the rings around our tree trunks are not. Men get more distinguished-looking, and we become, well ... crones.
Just look at Hollywood to see how this plays out. Women fight aging so hard that most of the women over 40 or 50 don't look like they age at all. In fact, I'm quite sure J-Lo is aging backwards. It's just not fair.
Being told you look good for your age is like getting kissed and slapped at the same time. Let it sink in a moment: You're getting complimented that you don't look old, because, let's face it, you are.
Aging gracefully is my goal
Besides, I'm scared of knives, and I'd rather save my money for sushi and wine and nice handbags. The best thing I do to fight looking "old" is dying my hair, without it I would look like Cruella Deville. Avoiding being seen in direct sunlight is also a good strategy, but hard to pull off. Walking fast enough to create a blur works, too. It's all smoke and mirrors, baby.
I'm not going to lie and tell you that turning 50 was easy. It wasn't. At least not at first. I dreaded it like I dread flying on airplanes. Waking up in a panic every day for the month before the big launch day arrives. My reaction surprised me. For years, I thought I would ring in my 50th year with great fanfare, or at least a disco ball.
Leaving my 40s felt like I was losing something I once had
All of a sudden, any double-digit number beginning with a 4 or less seemed young. So incredibly young. Almost infantile. But then my birthday passed. And within a month or so, I forgot that I was half a century old. Or that I'm supposed to become invisible to men. (FYI, that didn't happen. I hope it never does.)
"It would help not to treat age as if it were any less of a pleasure than it was when we were six and saying, 'I'm six and a half.' We could be saying, 'I'm fifty and a half' and say it with joy." — Gloria Steinem
I was thrilled when Italian beauty, Monica Bellucci, took on the role of Bond Girl in 2015 at the ripe old age of — wait for it — 50! The internet was flooded with posts from the media. Clearly, the producers of the Bond adventure had lost their minds when they cast a mature woman in a role that has always been filled by young, smooth-skinned nubile creatures. Every social media status at the time was dying to know if we thought Ms. Bellucci was too old to be considered attractive.
At 50, attractiveness tends to shift away from surface-level looks into something deeper
To me, attractive doesn't look just one way. It's not always what's all smooth and tight. Certainly, looks get my attention. But for me, what holds it and what's most attractive begins between the ears.
Now that I'm over the stigma and (others) devastation of admitting my age, being this age doesn't feel old. It doesn't feel like anything, really. I still feel like I did twenty or thirty years ago, plus a few aches and pains.
I know one thing: I will never lie about my age. If I'm lucky enough to be on the receiving end of a compliment, I'll accept it gladly. Besides, my ego could never recover from the sting of fibbing and receiving an eye roll.
Linda Wolff proves that midlife, motherhood, and the empty nest aren't so scary. Her essays have been published in numerous anthologies, as well as on the Huffington Post, Good Housekeeping, Cosmopolitan, Scary Mommy, Mamalode, and more.
