How Old Is too Old for Pigtails? No, I will not go gentle into the night, Rage, rage aginst the dying of the Light.
It's casual Sat at the office. No clients. No business associates, other than the norm office crew. Everyone dressed down with their sleeves rolled up to dig in and get some work done. Me? I walk in sporting my pigtails, ready to get busy. Co-worker next to me comments that no one over ten should be caught dead wearing pigtails. Pppffffssstttt. That's the sound of the air being sucked outta my joy balloon.
So I lifted my chin and refrained from smarting back, because that dear friends, is how I roll...most of the time. It got me to wondering, is my ripe old age of 45 too old for pigtails? Joy? Playfulness? At what age am I supposed to chop off all my locks and get a tight, short Grandma perm and start bitching about young people these days? Dear Lord, just shoot me...seriously, please...I'm begging you.
A little history here might be helpful. At about 35, my kids had gotten older and needed me less, I suffered a loss of identity and started to give into the pull, dressing the way I thought was appropriate for my new stage in life. The way my older peers said I should. And little by little I forgot who I was. Hell, I even went so far as to start wearing hand me downs from my MIL. Don't laugh. It happened. Why? Because I was giving in. Insecurities crept into my soul and Boom! I lost the sparkle in my eye. People noticed. My husband and kids noticed. I noticed. Then the worst possible thing happened. At about the age 40, I began to hate myself.
I had to do something drastic! Something absurd, something for just me. I bought a hair flower. Simple, small, beautiful. I bought it because I wanted it. I bought it because I shouldn't. I bought it because it spoke to me. It said 'I am who you used to be'. And I wore it. It didn't match. It didn't have to. It was a new beginning. The road back to loving myself as I did back when I was vivacious and 'young'.
So back to my pigtails. I rocked them with my chin in the air and a smile on my face, knowing that I had something that co-worker didn't understand. She didn't have to. That's kinda the point. Doing what brings you joy is the only way to live your life. You will never be deserving enough, or as young as you once were, or whatever it is that runs through your head when you tell yourself no. That's why you have to love yourself enough to say yes anyhow. That right there, my friends, is the fountain of youth.
I quoted Dylan Thomas's poem because truer words were never spoken on the topic of not so much aging, but of the loss of passion in your life. Many people think Dylan Thomas was writing about his father dying, but scholars say he was actually speaking about his father's impending blindness as wordsmith, Mira Zaslove explains...
"Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night is, therefore not just about fighting against the blindness of the old man or Thomas's own battles, but about all of us raging against our weaknesses, and the gradual loss of our fire, passions, and life."
An article circulated around this time last year that caused a stir, '24 Things Women Should Stop Wearing After Age 30', which I refuse to link because much like my co-worker, its only intention was to suck the joy from others without purpose or reason. (You can google it if you need to, but I wouldn't bother.) What came of it was amazing... an outcry of woman over 30 celebrating life, rather than hiding from it. My favorite response being this one from social media maven, Kristen Lamb. Behold, her Pinterest page dedicated to older women dressing and behaving badly.
So, what to take away from this blog post/rant? Celebrate your life, style and tastes. Don't hide from them because of age, weight or career path. Don't let others dictate who you should be. You are unique, and embracing that will banish the shadows from your day. Much love!
So I lifted my chin and refrained from smarting back, because that dear friends, is how I roll...most of the time. It got me to wondering, is my ripe old age of 45 too old for pigtails? Joy? Playfulness? At what age am I supposed to chop off all my locks and get a tight, short Grandma perm and start bitching about young people these days? Dear Lord, just shoot me...seriously, please...I'm begging you.
A little history here might be helpful. At about 35, my kids had gotten older and needed me less, I suffered a loss of identity and started to give into the pull, dressing the way I thought was appropriate for my new stage in life. The way my older peers said I should. And little by little I forgot who I was. Hell, I even went so far as to start wearing hand me downs from my MIL. Don't laugh. It happened. Why? Because I was giving in. Insecurities crept into my soul and Boom! I lost the sparkle in my eye. People noticed. My husband and kids noticed. I noticed. Then the worst possible thing happened. At about the age 40, I began to hate myself.
I had to do something drastic! Something absurd, something for just me. I bought a hair flower. Simple, small, beautiful. I bought it because I wanted it. I bought it because I shouldn't. I bought it because it spoke to me. It said 'I am who you used to be'. And I wore it. It didn't match. It didn't have to. It was a new beginning. The road back to loving myself as I did back when I was vivacious and 'young'.
So back to my pigtails. I rocked them with my chin in the air and a smile on my face, knowing that I had something that co-worker didn't understand. She didn't have to. That's kinda the point. Doing what brings you joy is the only way to live your life. You will never be deserving enough, or as young as you once were, or whatever it is that runs through your head when you tell yourself no. That's why you have to love yourself enough to say yes anyhow. That right there, my friends, is the fountain of youth.
I quoted Dylan Thomas's poem because truer words were never spoken on the topic of not so much aging, but of the loss of passion in your life. Many people think Dylan Thomas was writing about his father dying, but scholars say he was actually speaking about his father's impending blindness as wordsmith, Mira Zaslove explains...
"Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night is, therefore not just about fighting against the blindness of the old man or Thomas's own battles, but about all of us raging against our weaknesses, and the gradual loss of our fire, passions, and life."
An article circulated around this time last year that caused a stir, '24 Things Women Should Stop Wearing After Age 30', which I refuse to link because much like my co-worker, its only intention was to suck the joy from others without purpose or reason. (You can google it if you need to, but I wouldn't bother.) What came of it was amazing... an outcry of woman over 30 celebrating life, rather than hiding from it. My favorite response being this one from social media maven, Kristen Lamb. Behold, her Pinterest page dedicated to older women dressing and behaving badly.
So, what to take away from this blog post/rant? Celebrate your life, style and tastes. Don't hide from them because of age, weight or career path. Don't let others dictate who you should be. You are unique, and embracing that will banish the shadows from your day. Much love!
Me nervously rockin' my pigtails before my very first paintball game this summer, scandalous age of 45.5!
