Getting Over Getting Older
Tuesday, 08 November 2005
Along with public speaking and dentistry, having photographs made of me is one of my least favorite activities. Throughout my life, I have disliked every photo taken – that is, until I was sorting through them for the Timeline. I saw them then with new (old) eyes. Hey, you were kind of cute at 21, I remember thinking. And, that’s a lovely picture when you were 47. Why didn’t you like it then…
Last week, I spent two hours sitting for a professional photographer and although the man made a mighty effort to relax me, it was the same old agony it always is. When a camera is pointed in my direction, I can feel the muscles in my face go all funny and stiff. When I smile, it feels forced. My mouth goes as dry as when I give a speech.
It is nothing but vanity to be so uptight - wanting to be prettier, more attractive than one is. Understanding that doesn’t relieve the discomfort.
The next day, the photographer emailed one of the pictures to me. Judged purely on its photographic merit, it is beautiful. As a picture of me, it was shocking. I had no idea I look so old. Chubby face, the two little jowls, wrinkly hands and gray hair pulled back rather severely. If I didn’t know better, I’d take me for 80, not 64.
I showed the photo to a friend, someone I see at least weekly, and expressed my shock to her. I wanted to know if it is a fair picture, if I really do look that old.
She believes my shock is due to the fact that I didn’t gradually back into my older self; I did it all at once. Two years ago, I stopped using any more than the minimal amount of makeup to smooth out some blotchiness. At the same time, I quit coloring my hair and let it grow long. Nowadays, I usually pin it back in a pony tail or pile it in a clasp on the back of my head. It’s easy, comfortable and a whole lot cheaper than the price of Manhattan hair cuts every month. But it is an old-fashioned look.
My face would probably be less chubby if I hadn’t given up a lifetime of dieting about ten years ago. I can camouflage my lumpy body under loose sweaters and jackets, but not my fat face.
And so I’ve spent the past week forcing myself to look at this new photo several times a day and also to look in the mirror longer than the usual quick glance and be done. What I’ve learned is that I’m not quite so accepting of what I’ve turned into in my mid-sixties as I’d have you readers – and me - believe in the things I’ve written on this blog about getting over getting older.
But I am determined to get there, to find acceptance. I have no desire to spend the rest of life as concerned about my appearance as I was for the first 60 years. It is a monumental waste of time and emotional energy, as is the cosmetic regimen the youth and beauty police demand of older people to not offend their false belief that aging is an avoidable myth.
Recently, Elisa Camahort (one of the three Blogher founders) at her HealthyConcerns blog referred to me as “ElderBlogger Ronni Bennett.” Certainly that comes from the name she gave the panel (Respect Your Elderbloggers) where I'll be speaking at the SXSW conference in Austin, Texas, in March 2006.
For a few moments when I read that "title" Elisa gave me, it was unsettling. I like the word "elder" when it is applied not in the newer sense of frail, but in the older sense of learned and wise - which I do aspire to reach one day. After rolling it around in my head for awhile and saying it aloud - elderblogger, elderblogger - it felt right. So that's what I'll call myself in relation to Time Goes By from now on - Elderblogger Ronni Bennett.
And, it makes that old woman in the new photograph more acceptable to me.
I like the new title so much now that I've changed the headers on the Older Bloggers and Honorary Older Bloggers blogrolls to Elderbloggers. If anyone listed there is uncomfortable with that designation, let me know and I will remove your link. But that would be a shame. This is an opportunity to reclaim a lovely old word and make it positive again. Thank you, Elisa.
"Elderblogger" sounds so wise, Ronni. I love being included in that blogroll as a wise "elderblogger!" Hurrah! Otherwise what were all those years of experience, wounds, joys, scars, shining eyes for anyway? This is a wonderful post. You get to the heart of the struggle: learning to accept ourselves just as we are - elderbloggers! And gues what - we still can dance, and dance, and dance ...
Posted by: Tamar | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 03:46 AM
It is always shocking to see ourselves in photos or video clips, and hear ourselves on recordings. Odd how our perceived image of ourself is so often different from the reality that others see and hear.While that is true at any age, it seems to escalate with age. Some of that is undoubtedly denial, some just natural 'shock and awe' since many of us don't change that much over the years, and then we wake up one morning and the hair is gray - or gone, the waist line has jumped a couple of inches, etc.
The term 'elder' does have gravity. It conjurs up seasoned, wise, sage. Just so long as I as an 'elderblogger' do not get confused with an 'elderberry'.
Posted by: Winston | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 04:19 AM
Ronni, I could have written this one also. I was never happy with my looks and photos were always cause for frowning and hating the way they turned out. At a school reunion 2 years ago, and old friend brought some photos from our school days and said how pretty I was then. I was forced to look at myself in a new light, thinking "why didn't you realize how attractive you were, instead of constantly downgrading yourself?" Perhaps in a few years, I will feel the same about photos taken now (though I doubt it). I am not wearing the excess fat, wrinkles and age spots very comfortabley either!
I do love your photos at the top of the page; the progression through time is so interesting to see and you were very attractive in most of them (except for the afro hair...LOL)
Posted by: kenju | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 05:42 AM
I never wore makeup and I stopped coloring my hair about eight years ago (it took a long time for it to grow out and since I never want to go through that again, I guess it was a permanent decision). Even though I exercise and my body is in pretty good shape, my face is weary and sad. I feel like the guy in "When You and I were Young, Maggie" who says: "My face is a well written page, Maggie, but time alone was the pen." I've been through a rough dozen years and it shows. I'm sad about that, but on the other hand, I'm still here and that's a good thing.
Posted by: melinama | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 05:45 AM
Well, thank goodness I have never been glamorous and have always had a fat face - I guess I don't have much to lose and that has a lot to do with why I'm not dismayed by the changes in my aging looks or the thought of continued changes -seriously, I think it must be less traumatic!
Posted by: Jean | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 07:41 AM
I've had exactly the same experience when looking at old pictures. Just recently I noticed a picture my mother had of me from about 15 years ago. I didn't even want to look at it then. Now, I think it's quite nice. I think I also think that's what I look like now, but it's not true.
Mostly I don't mind the signs of age much. I've gotten used to the fact that no one is suprised that I'm a grandmother anymore, and long ago, the "ma'ams" stopped surprising me. But what was a bit galling is that not once, but twice, this summer my sister was mistaken for a daughter. She's only five and a half years younger. I don't know if it's just that she's one of those naturally rounded people. She's always struggled with her weight, but some of it's working for her rather than against her now.
Posted by: pat | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 08:58 AM
I am glad you realized that I meant "elder" in the most admiring way :) I think it speaks to wisdom and stature in one's community, not frailty or decay.
Posted by: Elisa Camahort | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 09:09 AM
It is a comfort (and a bit of a relief) to know that you, too, have within you pockets of resistence to getting older. It makes your position and your words here more genuine. It also makes it safe for me to admit that I too lament the changes I see in my body, and to explore this without sacrificing your esteem. I'm glad to be an honorary elderblogger!
Posted by: Kathryn | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 10:01 AM
I share your reaction to photographers.
It is still a shock to look at my picture or at myself in the mirror, because the face and body I see do not reflect the way I feel.
Perhaps the best solution is to keep looking outwards and into the future. The joy of creating has not flagged even though I am into my seventh decade. I can't slow down now, I have too many projects to do!
Keep those wonderful posts coming!
Posted by: David St Lawrence | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 02:04 PM
I recently got told I could have a senior discount if I was 55. I confessed to the truth of just turning that ager for the $10 off...but it did shake me up a little.
Posted by: colleen | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 02:40 PM
Hooray for you, Roni. I, too, am experimening with growing out the hair because of the cost of haircuts and because I just want to know what it feels like again. Sometimes I look pretty haggard and other times it just makes me feel happy, softer, rebellious, even sexy. Just the other day I told my daughter I wished I could get past letting my appearance determine my self-confidence. At 53 I'm ready to move into my own skin, including the extra pounds, and feel comfortable.
Posted by: Pat | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 02:52 PM
I certainly relate. After 40 some years of looking at pictures to see how fat I look I now focus on how old I look - both reactions designed to make myself miserable. But hell, what are the alternatives? Dying young or looking like Cher!
Posted by: Takoma Gardener | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 03:50 PM
Oh Ronni, I'm going through a similar trial, at 55, recently retired, trying to create a new life, and a close look in the mirror is something I avoid. Coming to terms with aging is more of a challenge than I had thought it would be. Is it more difficult because I have no husband and no children? Perhaps... and we boomers are not going into our elder years easily.
Posted by: Melinda | Tuesday, 08 November 2005 at 11:50 PM
Ronni, at age 72 I've been using the term "elder" or "elderperson" for many years because I, too, liked the connection with wisdom; some of which I hope to have gathered during all these years of living :-}
Thank you for choosing to use this term to express our period of "life-stage". What a warmly dignified feeling flows~~~~~~~
Posted by: nickie | Wednesday, 09 November 2005 at 11:16 AM
Wow. Everyone has the same reaction to photographs of themselves as you. Add me to the chorus. I wonder if it's because our insides don't match our outsides. What the Buddhists call the ever-present awareness, our consciousness doesn't age so it's always a bit of a shock to see ourselves particularly in a candid shot.
What seems to make the difference is when a genuine and true smile lights up the face and you can see the light within.
I like the idea of reclaiming the world "elder" even though I don't think it fits me or other people in the 50-70 stage which today seems to be late middle age. I prefer older to elder because it includes more people
Posted by: Jill | Thursday, 10 November 2005 at 06:28 AM
I can handle Elderblogger, too; sounds good to me. I noted you commented at A Mindful Life that you, too, are short of time and sorry you can't spend as much time commenting and replying to comments as you'd like. I can certainly understand that on such a highly trafficked blog like yours. I'm just delighted, when I do visit from time to time, just how rich and right on your posts are. And I want to see the new photo. Are you ready to show it? I'm the same as you--each photo I dread and when I look back I can't imagine why I had such dire thoughts about how unattractive I was. Oh, well.
What happened to the move to Maine?
Posted by: Fran | Thursday, 10 November 2005 at 04:58 PM
Fran: The photo is for a magazine story that should be published next month. I'll let you know then...
I'll have a lot to say about Maine within a week or so.
Posted by: Ronni Bennett | Thursday, 10 November 2005 at 05:29 PM
An elder is also a tree . . .
"Its hard wood, so very easily hollowed, adapted it for a variety of musical instruments . . . Though the German name of the tree, Holdre, is said to signify hollow, it is also said to be mythologically connected with Hulda, the goddess of love; and, like love, the Elder drives away evil spirits and defeats the arts of the sorcerer, being an antidote to all his machinations. . . . even in a wild state this tree exhibits a considerable tendency to vary,"
As someone else who has always tended to stiffen up in front of a camera, I'm not sure it is ONLY vanity. It may also a preference for looking rather than being looked at -- wherever that comes from -- a trait common to writers (at least before the sexy book jacket photograph became part of the PR apparatus!).
Ronni, if you are leaving for Maine, we have to meet -- I have a wonderful Maine book for you. I hardly get out of the house any more, but for mercy's sake, half an hour anyway . . .
Posted by: amba | Friday, 11 November 2005 at 03:49 AM
We are often super critical of ourselves under ordinary circumstances. As the years have gone by I still find myself adjusting to a perception of myself inside my brain that is not borne out with the image I see in my mirror, especially a full length mirror, or in a picture? I seem always to experience a fleeting second of disbelief the picture or the reflection in the mirror is really me.
There are limitations as to what we can do to adjust our appearance, whatever we may feel inside. With language we have a bit more leeway I think.
I, too, like the term "elder," but do not perceive it as a term descriptive of myself, or most others below the age of 80 yrs. With all due respect, I think the "youngsters" in their 50's, 60's and even 70's need to search for a different term. Perhaps, with this fluid dynamic language of ours we need to create a new word for this age group of which I am a part.
A dear vibrant friend of the family, one month short of being 104 yrs of age, passed on recently. She would have had a few laughs that these "spring chickens" (from her perspective) would adopt the word "elder" to describe themselves. Now, she was an elder, with all the wisdom and the age the term implies.
I think there must be a different word that could better serve our age group. I wish I could suggest one, but elderblogger will suffice in the meantime. Certainly it's an improvement over the status quo.
Posted by: joared | Saturday, 12 November 2005 at 10:16 PM