Right on, to all of the Monicas! I think the most amazing act of Feminism is to do whatever the fuck you want to do. Want to Jocelyn Wildenstein yourself? go for it. Want to not be a size 0 at age 85 and walk around in a thong? DO IT. Want to just be? I'll be with you.
This is our one and only precious life and it is OURS to decide what we want to do.
YES!!! this, first and always. I’m totally with you that the heart of feminism is doing whatever you want with your own body and life.
So I worry that when I question the machine — the system that convinces so many of us we’re not good enough as we are — it’ll get misunderstood as me judging the women inside it.
I just feel rage that so many of those choices we fight so hard to be able to make are shaped by a culture that profits off our dissatisfaction. This IS our one and only life and we SHOULD get to decide. I just want to make sure we’re actually the ones truly doing the deciding and not still judging ourselves through the male gaze.
I get it! Now that I stopped highlight my hair (it's going white anyways) I have more money for Botox ;)!!!
I remember when my husband found out last year that I had botox and juvederm in my lips, and he was APPALLED and said I looked funny because of it, only to find out I had been doing to for like ten years. A little dab'll do me! So now he just minds his own beeswax.... unless my eyebrow tint is too dark (another thing I've been doing for over 15 years that he only noticed when I came home with Bert Brows), then he just calls me Bert.
All in all, this is our ride and our party. Do what makes you happy!
You’ve always been a total beauty and still are. It’s so funny you write this as I’m bombarded on Instagram with adverts to buy products to cover my eye bags or stop jowls or thicken brows or what not and the other day I caught myself thinking - who decreed this? That we need to look young at 52?? That unless I am youthful I am worthless? Who said I have to be thin and firm and plump lipped and doe eyed? I’ve stopped wearing make up unless I have meetings in London. Otherwise SPF and I’m good to go. It’s refreshing, easy and yes, I have lines. They are from laughing. Thank fuck I’ve laughed so much. Every one of those laughs helped me. Loved this post beyond words.
From a 58yr old: yes. It’s as though I’m amongst the Air Brushed Women… their faces are beginning to look the same. How do we differentiate who we all are? An anecdote which parallels your beautiful essay- I was going through the hardest time of my life and quite possibly should have been ‘committed’. I made it through with chutzpah and medication - when I returned to work needing to gain 20 pounds, how did they receive me not knowing what I had been through?
“You look great,” as if thinness was the reward for all that suffering.. I feel that so deeply. The way we’re conditioned to compliment collapse if it fits the visual ideal is devastating.
And yes — you said it so clearly: the faces, the sameness, the airbrushed effect. It’s like we’re erasing our individuality to stay inside some acceptable frame. I think that’s why I wrote this — because I don’t want to be told I look great for my age or I look good because I fit some ideal. I want to be recognized for making it through!
A friend from my high school days had several bouts with uterine cancers. She told me before the last one that she was still alive because she had “banked” enough body weight to survive the starvation induced by her chemo treatments. Glad to be fat!
Now that I am 70 and have literally lost my ass, I am trying to feel friendlier to my “airbag” in the front…
I think our bodies go through big changes in clusters; puberty is a radial reformatting and so are the mirror events of later in life, well past menopause.
Yes.Yes. Yes. This,this is what I wished I could articulate to all my over 40 gals. This is what I hope my daughter is learning from see in me just live my life, not giving a fuck about what anyone else thinks about my gray hair, and wtf lines on my face. As long as I'm happy with ther person in the mirror and honor her and love her, nothing else matters.
This is it. That feeling of just living your life, not performing it or waiting to be approved. Just showing up in your own skin and letting your daughter see what real looks like. That’s the gift. You’re doing it and I’m so glad this resonated. We need more of us out here proudly showing our aging faces exactly as they are!
I feel this so much! I’ve been sitting with these same questions since I turned 40. And while I absolutely believe everyone gets to age however they want (and those choices are deeply personal and valid), for me, choosing not to get fillers or injections feels like a line I want to draw.
Because I know myself. Even just one “little tweak” would shift the way I see my face. I’d start studying it differently and scanning it for what else could be fixed. What else could be tightened, smoothed, erased. And I don’t want to live like that. I want to watch my face change and literally say, “Welcome, wrinkle.”
It’s going to take serious practice. A total reframing of how I see myself — free from the male gaze, the marketing gaze, the pressure gaze. Honestly, I’m writing this for me as much as for anyone else, because the skin care routines and the anti-aging propaganda are relentless. I may completely change my mind about hair dye, make-up and even Botox, but I really hope I don't.
This notion of aging being the point, the thing to celebrate instead of fight, feels like real magic to me, a real, meaningful way to take my body back from the patriarchy, the Mormons and everyone else trying to make me feel any kind of way about it.
Amen! Love all of this. The last time I dyed my roots, it was late at night; it was my first free moment all day, and I just wanted to go to bed. The rest of my family was turning in, but I was downstairs, dye on my roots, waiting for the timer to go off. And I thought, "Who am I doing this for? Because I don't think it's me anymore." And that was that. Never did it again. That was 2 years ago. You know what surprised me when I decided to grow out my grays at 46? How many people were suprised by my decision. WHY would a woman do this? It took awhile, I but I didn't care. My hair is so much healthier. I have volume and waves I've never had before, and it matches my face. I feel like ME. You will love it.
Hi! That moment you described — standing there with dye on your roots late at night while the rest of your house is asleep — that’s it. That little whisper of, “Wait… who am I doing this for? Because I don’t think it’s me anymore.”
I think that shit every time I fork out $300 for blonde hair. Is this really for me? Or for everyone else? And honestly… do I even know the difference between whether I'm doing it for me or others? For most of my life, I've just passively allowed society to dictate so much about who I am that it's hard to tell what's for me and what's for everyone else.
I think a lot of us think those thoughts and ignore them for years. You listened. And I love that you’re two years out now, feeling more like you than ever! <3<3
It's def funny how people react when a woman dares to just let her physical appearance do what it's gonna do. Like, you're letting yourself go? Or it's somehow strange or an act of defiance to live in your real hair, your real face, your real age? But that’s exactly what it is: powerful defiance. Thank you for sharing this, I’m carrying your words with me. <3
I was sitting with my mother (who has dementia) last week talking about her upcoming birthday and I asked if she knew how old she was going to be. She said, "Don't say the number ..." as if it was a crime she'd committed and was ashamed of. So I told her of a reframe I'd recently heard someone use on a podcast (can't remember which one): They said that they never ask someone "How old are you?" Instead they ask "How many years have you lived?" I said, "Mom, you've lived for 81 years." She sat up straighter, got a little smile. She was PROUD. And she should be; living is a breathtaking accomplishment. I think we should all replace "OLD" with "LIVED."
No needles for me either, though I can't promise I won't eventually try those "Frownie" wrinkle patch thingies I'm always seeing on Instagram...
This is beautiful, Robyn. That moment with your mom — you facilitating the shift from shame to pride — that’s the exact reframe we all deserve. Not old, but lived.
And no shame about the Frownies — we’ve all got our little curiosity windows. I have a friend in NYC who sends me all these outrageously expensive skin cream samples, and I rub them HARD into my forehead like the force of my fingers is directly proportionate to how flat the wrinkle will become. The acceptance thing is a work in progress...
👏🏻 so many lines I want to save and re-read on a daily basis. I just saw The Picture of Dorian Gray yesterday, and this aligns with the theme of that play so deeply.
Thanks for this wonderful essay. As a 32 y.o., I have been fixated on and saddened by the "elevens" I see deepening on my forehead. A few weeks ago, I found myself frantically plucking gray hairs from the crown of my head. Once I calmed down, I made a promise to myself not to do that again. Aging is a privilege, one I am grateful for. Sharing this essay with my sister and close friend.
I was just at the Kroger and the cashier asked me if I wanted the senior citizen discount..............................................................................................
I’m proud of getting old, but assuming someone’s age is a hate crime, JFC. Like, can I opt into the senior discount without being assigned to it, asshole? But yes, gimme that discount, Sharon. If I’m gonna be invisibilized by society, I’m at least getting 10% off my fuckin’ produce. At these prices? Call me Grandma.
Thank you for sharing your profound thoughts and personal paradigm shift. YES to fully residing in our bodies, our power and our peace!
Right on, to all of the Monicas! I think the most amazing act of Feminism is to do whatever the fuck you want to do. Want to Jocelyn Wildenstein yourself? go for it. Want to not be a size 0 at age 85 and walk around in a thong? DO IT. Want to just be? I'll be with you.
This is our one and only precious life and it is OURS to decide what we want to do.
YES!!! this, first and always. I’m totally with you that the heart of feminism is doing whatever you want with your own body and life.
So I worry that when I question the machine — the system that convinces so many of us we’re not good enough as we are — it’ll get misunderstood as me judging the women inside it.
I just feel rage that so many of those choices we fight so hard to be able to make are shaped by a culture that profits off our dissatisfaction. This IS our one and only life and we SHOULD get to decide. I just want to make sure we’re actually the ones truly doing the deciding and not still judging ourselves through the male gaze.
I get it! Now that I stopped highlight my hair (it's going white anyways) I have more money for Botox ;)!!!
I remember when my husband found out last year that I had botox and juvederm in my lips, and he was APPALLED and said I looked funny because of it, only to find out I had been doing to for like ten years. A little dab'll do me! So now he just minds his own beeswax.... unless my eyebrow tint is too dark (another thing I've been doing for over 15 years that he only noticed when I came home with Bert Brows), then he just calls me Bert.
All in all, this is our ride and our party. Do what makes you happy!
I am so so happy you are here. I love and need your perspective in my life. <3
HEARTS AND SMILES
Every word. And this power? The one you have always wielded in the truth of your face and body and SOUL. Is why you’re so fucking hot.
just tryna keep up with you. i love you RW <3
🫀
You’ve always been a total beauty and still are. It’s so funny you write this as I’m bombarded on Instagram with adverts to buy products to cover my eye bags or stop jowls or thicken brows or what not and the other day I caught myself thinking - who decreed this? That we need to look young at 52?? That unless I am youthful I am worthless? Who said I have to be thin and firm and plump lipped and doe eyed? I’ve stopped wearing make up unless I have meetings in London. Otherwise SPF and I’m good to go. It’s refreshing, easy and yes, I have lines. They are from laughing. Thank fuck I’ve laughed so much. Every one of those laughs helped me. Loved this post beyond words.
From a 58yr old: yes. It’s as though I’m amongst the Air Brushed Women… their faces are beginning to look the same. How do we differentiate who we all are? An anecdote which parallels your beautiful essay- I was going through the hardest time of my life and quite possibly should have been ‘committed’. I made it through with chutzpah and medication - when I returned to work needing to gain 20 pounds, how did they receive me not knowing what I had been through?
“YOU LOOK GREAT!” Because I was so thin
“You look great,” as if thinness was the reward for all that suffering.. I feel that so deeply. The way we’re conditioned to compliment collapse if it fits the visual ideal is devastating.
And yes — you said it so clearly: the faces, the sameness, the airbrushed effect. It’s like we’re erasing our individuality to stay inside some acceptable frame. I think that’s why I wrote this — because I don’t want to be told I look great for my age or I look good because I fit some ideal. I want to be recognized for making it through!
I’m delighted you are healthier now. 💐
A friend from my high school days had several bouts with uterine cancers. She told me before the last one that she was still alive because she had “banked” enough body weight to survive the starvation induced by her chemo treatments. Glad to be fat!
Now that I am 70 and have literally lost my ass, I am trying to feel friendlier to my “airbag” in the front…
I think our bodies go through big changes in clusters; puberty is a radial reformatting and so are the mirror events of later in life, well past menopause.
Every day above ground is a good day, eh?
That's the right attitude, I think. Hope I maintain that when I'm 70!
Yes.Yes. Yes. This,this is what I wished I could articulate to all my over 40 gals. This is what I hope my daughter is learning from see in me just live my life, not giving a fuck about what anyone else thinks about my gray hair, and wtf lines on my face. As long as I'm happy with ther person in the mirror and honor her and love her, nothing else matters.
This is it. That feeling of just living your life, not performing it or waiting to be approved. Just showing up in your own skin and letting your daughter see what real looks like. That’s the gift. You’re doing it and I’m so glad this resonated. We need more of us out here proudly showing our aging faces exactly as they are!
I can’t tell you how timely this message is, as I turn 43 tomorrow and have been wondering if I should tweak, dye, or freshen up any part of me.
Thank you for keeping it real, as always, and leading the way - showing all of us how magical it is to age and just…be. Appreciate you!
Happy Birthday!!!!
I feel this so much! I’ve been sitting with these same questions since I turned 40. And while I absolutely believe everyone gets to age however they want (and those choices are deeply personal and valid), for me, choosing not to get fillers or injections feels like a line I want to draw.
Because I know myself. Even just one “little tweak” would shift the way I see my face. I’d start studying it differently and scanning it for what else could be fixed. What else could be tightened, smoothed, erased. And I don’t want to live like that. I want to watch my face change and literally say, “Welcome, wrinkle.”
It’s going to take serious practice. A total reframing of how I see myself — free from the male gaze, the marketing gaze, the pressure gaze. Honestly, I’m writing this for me as much as for anyone else, because the skin care routines and the anti-aging propaganda are relentless. I may completely change my mind about hair dye, make-up and even Botox, but I really hope I don't.
This notion of aging being the point, the thing to celebrate instead of fight, feels like real magic to me, a real, meaningful way to take my body back from the patriarchy, the Mormons and everyone else trying to make me feel any kind of way about it.
Amen! Love all of this. The last time I dyed my roots, it was late at night; it was my first free moment all day, and I just wanted to go to bed. The rest of my family was turning in, but I was downstairs, dye on my roots, waiting for the timer to go off. And I thought, "Who am I doing this for? Because I don't think it's me anymore." And that was that. Never did it again. That was 2 years ago. You know what surprised me when I decided to grow out my grays at 46? How many people were suprised by my decision. WHY would a woman do this? It took awhile, I but I didn't care. My hair is so much healthier. I have volume and waves I've never had before, and it matches my face. I feel like ME. You will love it.
Hi! That moment you described — standing there with dye on your roots late at night while the rest of your house is asleep — that’s it. That little whisper of, “Wait… who am I doing this for? Because I don’t think it’s me anymore.”
I think that shit every time I fork out $300 for blonde hair. Is this really for me? Or for everyone else? And honestly… do I even know the difference between whether I'm doing it for me or others? For most of my life, I've just passively allowed society to dictate so much about who I am that it's hard to tell what's for me and what's for everyone else.
I think a lot of us think those thoughts and ignore them for years. You listened. And I love that you’re two years out now, feeling more like you than ever! <3<3
It's def funny how people react when a woman dares to just let her physical appearance do what it's gonna do. Like, you're letting yourself go? Or it's somehow strange or an act of defiance to live in your real hair, your real face, your real age? But that’s exactly what it is: powerful defiance. Thank you for sharing this, I’m carrying your words with me. <3
💪❤️
I was sitting with my mother (who has dementia) last week talking about her upcoming birthday and I asked if she knew how old she was going to be. She said, "Don't say the number ..." as if it was a crime she'd committed and was ashamed of. So I told her of a reframe I'd recently heard someone use on a podcast (can't remember which one): They said that they never ask someone "How old are you?" Instead they ask "How many years have you lived?" I said, "Mom, you've lived for 81 years." She sat up straighter, got a little smile. She was PROUD. And she should be; living is a breathtaking accomplishment. I think we should all replace "OLD" with "LIVED."
No needles for me either, though I can't promise I won't eventually try those "Frownie" wrinkle patch thingies I'm always seeing on Instagram...
This is beautiful, Robyn. That moment with your mom — you facilitating the shift from shame to pride — that’s the exact reframe we all deserve. Not old, but lived.
And no shame about the Frownies — we’ve all got our little curiosity windows. I have a friend in NYC who sends me all these outrageously expensive skin cream samples, and I rub them HARD into my forehead like the force of my fingers is directly proportionate to how flat the wrinkle will become. The acceptance thing is a work in progress...
👏🏻 so many lines I want to save and re-read on a daily basis. I just saw The Picture of Dorian Gray yesterday, and this aligns with the theme of that play so deeply.
Thank you so much!!! <3
You hit the lotto for face and hair, regardless of whatever you do/don’t do with them. Just have fun!
It’s the intelligent light in our eyes, the warmth in our smile, the caring touch we give away that define real beauty.
“Beauty is as beauty does”
You’re doing a very lovely public service with your exquisite writing about this.
Deep thanks. 🌹
What a beautiful comment! Thank you for reading <3
Thanks for this wonderful essay. As a 32 y.o., I have been fixated on and saddened by the "elevens" I see deepening on my forehead. A few weeks ago, I found myself frantically plucking gray hairs from the crown of my head. Once I calmed down, I made a promise to myself not to do that again. Aging is a privilege, one I am grateful for. Sharing this essay with my sister and close friend.
I was just at the Kroger and the cashier asked me if I wanted the senior citizen discount..............................................................................................
I wasn't ready for THAT.
I’m proud of getting old, but assuming someone’s age is a hate crime, JFC. Like, can I opt into the senior discount without being assigned to it, asshole? But yes, gimme that discount, Sharon. If I’m gonna be invisibilized by society, I’m at least getting 10% off my fuckin’ produce. At these prices? Call me Grandma.
I think I screeched: I in my 40s! and glared at her.
she was on autopilot cuz you be fine as hell
Called the Post Office the Letter Mail Store today.
i don't use names for anything anymore. it's all stuff like that!
"The place where you buy computers" (Best Buy) or "the thing I use for weeding" (a shovel).
Sometimes I just gesticulate wildly in some sort of pantomime that I think resembles what I'm trying to say, but it never works.