Z is for…

Z

 …ze end!

Hah! See how I cheated here?

Initially, I had listed some Z words as potential topics for today – words like Zen or Zinsser (the primer of choice for many undergoing a home reno project!) – but a lovely writer whose blog goes by Jen Seriously made a post that got me thinking about endings instead. The alpha to the omega. The A to the Z. The beginning to the end. To a new beginning.

It seems to me that far too many women are actively fighting and fearing ageing and that – from the viewpoint of my current, lofty crone throne – seems like such a waste of energy. Oh yeah – but I too used to worry about that, for years from time to time.

I remember as a young girl (maybe 7 or so?) looking in the hallway mirror and thinking about being a grown-up and worrying wondering who would marry me. Because at that age, that was all I knew of women’s lives. You grew up, got married and had a family.

Looking in that mirror, I saw that I was not an attractive young girl. I was not small, thin or delicate. My once-blonde hair was now plain brown, except for some golden streaks from a summer spent outdoors, and cut into the shortest, ugliest bowl cut imaginable (thanks Oma!). I was big for my age and quite pudgy – no, fat! My knees and elbows were purple and scabbed from exploring my environment. I told myself that I was so ugly that no one would want to marry me anyways so why was I even spending any time worrying about this? I remember such a sense of relief at that realization. Then I went outside to play, my moment of angst beyond my years quickly replaced with other pursuits.

I did grow from that ugly duckling into some kind of a swan, at puberty. At least, the boys noticed me and some girls were even jealous of me. Yet I still wasted spent far too many hours comparing myself to others and worrying about hanging onto my new attractiveness to the opposite sex.

In brief moments of lucidity during this time, I flashed back to the days when I felt relief and freedom at being ugly and hoped desperately that wondered if I would feel this way again when my hormones waned. I looked forward to this day – when I would be released from what I was sure was this completely hormone-induced craziness – and could go back to being my authentic, I-ain’t-got-time-for-this-BS  girlself. Finally unfettered from my body’s prime imperative to attract attention from the opposite sex in order to procreate, and able to go back to being who I really was – at my core.

That day has been here for some time now, my friends. I did go through a period of rather intense grieving for my lost youthful looks as I prepared to get married again – at age 51 – but that’s over now. I feared I would look silly as a bride and wanted so to turn back the clock, even just for that day. I was once again able to push aside these fears and went outside to play got married in full bridal regalia, regardless. My late husband thought I was beautiful, and I thought him handsome, and that’s all that matters. Each was seeing and loving the whole person, inside and out, and that is where true beauty comes from, anyway.

So – to cut this ramble short and get back to the point – youth ends, the blogging challenge ends, everything ends – but that is how we get to beginnings, again and again.

Now stop worrying. And get outside and play!

The WB

 

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Wendy

When I hear people say they’d love to relive their high school days, I think NO WAY! Older is much more liberating.
Congratulations on surviving A-Z.

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