Back to being 60

I was feeling a kind of pull, at 60. Some of it was to do with how I look and how I dress, how I present myself to the world. I was starting to ask myself, is it okay for me to wear this or that, to do this or that with my hair, my face, my feet? How do I want to look now? Do I have to make adjustments, for my age? Can I still trust myself to know what is okay, for me, including the age I now am and the direction in which I am heading, age-wise? Can I use my intuition and do and wear what I feel drawn to? I don’t want to dress like my children but neither do I want to dress like my grandparents, if they were still alive. And it’s not so much about looking younger; it’s more about empowering myself at any age.  I am an individual, independent in my thinking, doing and being, and part of that is the way I present myself to the world, and to myself in the mirror. This is part of self-care, for me, because it gives me pleasure and makes me feel good.

The pull I felt was challenging me, making me question this. I thought as it was doing this for me it must also be challenging all women “of a certain age”, pulling us towards that pigeon-hole, that category. And at 50, or 60, or 70 can we say how much care we give ourselves; how much are we able to love ourselves, in a doing manner, on a daily basis. How much do we give in to the pull to not care so much, to not pay so much attention, to scale down the pleasure and the fun; the feminine fun of clothes, shoes, hair, face creams and all of that stuff that can be so much fun. Look at how our grand-daughters, if we have them, love to dress up and put on our lipstick, eye-shadow, nail varnish. Do we give to ourselves the nurture, support, availability and actual caring that we have given and still give, unequivocally, to our children and grandchildren, if we have them.  Does it matter to us? Are we worth it?