Well, I had a well thought out long post here and wordpress killed it.
A quickie then as it is late and I have other things to do before I can sleep tonight.
I had a nice dinner tonight with my niece. She’s 16 and beautiful.
She is definitely a teenager, though. She’s in the throes of teenagerness, dealing with all the things that go along with it: friend drama, dating drama (had the first fight with her girlfriend tonight,) school worries, driving worries, body issues.
All the things you’d expect from a teenage girl. All the things you wish they didn’t have to go through.
The worst is she doesn’t like the way she looks. You know how most American woman dislike their bodies, their faces, their hair. We have it pushed into our brains that we are not good enough, never good enough.
She’s in the worst of it.
Prior to dinner, I had a discussion with her and a friend about how in 20 years they’ll look back at pictures of themselves and realize how cute they were.
I do it. I was fat, but not as fat as I thought. My hair was pretty, my eyes were too. Yet, I thought I was horrid looking. Now, I look back and wonder why my brain would betray me in such a way.
I wish I could make all of that go away for her. I wish I could give her a 40-year-old perspective on it.
Yet at the same time, I look in the mirror and see the grey in my hair, the wrinkles starting on my face, how my skin on my hands is starting to thing, and it is difficult to not feel bad.
Especially at a time when women are still treated poorly for aging. Hell, look at what Carrie Fisher has been through with the release of Episode 7.
So much has been said about how “poorly” she has aged. It’s 40 years later. FORTY and some people seem to think she’s should still look like a 19-year-old.
It just doesn’t work that way.
Not for any of us.
Carrie Fisher though? She has handled it with aplomb. I only hope I can be more like her and encourage my niece to be more like her.
For that matter, all women to be more like her. We age, if we’re lucky. We’re not perfect, no one is.
We’re so hard on ourselves that it is just beyond words.
Now, it is late and I’ve rambled and I need to wrap my husband’s birthday present. He turns 42 on Monday. We’ve been together since he was 22. Talk about changing, we’ve changed together and I love it.