I've spoken in the past about becoming the Crone and welcoming the mature feminine experience into my life as opposed to "fighting" aging and rejecting its natural changes. I don't particularly care that I might look old to those whose expectations are warped by the industries that profit from telling women that we are no longer "worth it" if we don't cover our gray and inject our wrinkles with toxins. I've noticed a lot of my peers seem to share my views, or at least share my refusal to cover my natural hair color. Honestly, I find it a really weird concept that I would not know the real color of my hair. The women who've always colored their gray are missing out on a that fundamental self-knowledge. It seems to me similar to not knowing what my own toes look like. It's really not a trivial thing to purposely and sometimes forcefully refuse to know something about oneself.
Anyway, aging is a totally natural part of life and I hope that as we humans evolve we will begin to accept these natural changes and processes. In past centuries life expectancy was shorter. I don't know if that made aging less acceptable or desirable. It might be that aging has always been feared and that the elderly have often been vilified or otherwise maligned. There seems to be some cultural differences in way that aging and the elderly are treated. But in modern Western culture of the 20th Century aging was seen as something to "fight."
Perhaps my generation is fed up with all of our development being "socially engineered" by modern society. From infancy on into middle age our lives have been molded by "expert" expectations and demands. Our mothers were told that it would damage us emotionally if we were held too much as infants and that our being potty trained by 2 was the sign of both of our successes in life. For god's sake, if a child was still in diapers past 2 there might as well be prison cell put in reserve for that child's future and a crown of shame for the mother. Anyway, my kids were in diapers past two and they've all turned out to be emotionally well-developed and successful in their own ways. Whatever my failures as a mother might be they seem to have overcome them.
I've talked here about the Maiden/Mother/Crone stages of life for women and in my younger inexperience and intellectualized view I kind of thought that the stages would be more distinct without so many conflicting urges, feelings, and adjustments. I thought that once I got this close to the Crone stage that the Maiden might stay in her restful coma for the rest of my life. I did imagine that advanced aging would bring back some of the child-like aspects but I assumed that the Maiden's libido wouldn't be revived. Ha, the universe always finds ways to tell me I'm wrong. Maybe it's all just part of the reverse "puberty" of menopause where the body is adjusting its hormonal levels. The last year I've felt more like a teenager with raging hormones than the old lady who's drying up. I haven't heard any other women talking about that happening to them so I tend to think that it's more of a reaction to a specific stimulus. I question all of this stuff because part of me says I really am too old for all that and that it's pure ridiculous delusion to imagine that I could be seen as anything other than the almost Crone that I am. But maybe I am wrong to think that being a Crone and feeling sexual are mutually exclusive. Maybe that's just the stupid societal conditioning about aging women. (Though there is my personal experience of that part of me being dormant and seemingly dead for quite some time so it seemed natural to assume that was the norm. And no one ever tried to make me think or feel different.)
Approaching Cronehood I had imagined would be much more stable and emotionally secure. But this whole "change of life" thing is hitting me really hard this year. In some ways I've aged a lot in the last six months, but I also feel about 15-20 years younger physically due to weight loss and lifestyle improvements. So there's this dichotomy of feeling like I'm just old and gross and all those other things society tells aging women, and on the flipside there's this energy that feels somewhat urgent and intense, like I need to do things before it really is too late. The biological clock is ticking faster and faster as the days pass.
Sometimes I wish my house could sprout legs like Baba Yaga's Hut so that I could escape the encroaching world or maybe chase after whatever strikes my fancy. But I'm getting tired. I have to conserve my energy and meter it out wisely, without wasting it on pointless fantasies. While I still feel pretty spry for my age most of the time, I am reminded of the cruelty of aging's limitations. The telomeres aren't what they used to be. I shift between feeling hardened by life and feeling worn into a comfortable softness. Am I soft and gentle or just tired and weak? I think I've been hurt enough.
