It’s been a long time since I wrote my first blog and social media has changed so much since then. While there are many young women out there blogging, I struggle to find women over 50 being represented realistically online.
We are the mothers of these strong, confident women but we have no specific space in our society anymore, we have almost become irrelevant. Many of us are single again, lost in a world of dating apps where men assume we are desperate and will put out easily or we get scammed by charming professional charlatans who play on our fear of dying old alone.
Most of us are still at work, with superannuation that is a quarter of our ex husbands, because we either stayed home with the kids or only worked part time. We would like to retire before we are too old to enjoy it, but also want the opportunity to grow our careers at the same speed as our male counterparts. Our ex husbands are having children again, with women half our age often from overseas, while our biological clocks have gone digital and stopped ticking, sometimes with our libido in tow! I don’t begrudge these women marrying Australian men, most of the men are well past their expiry date and don’t want to or know how to, deal with the change that has empowered mature western women’s independence. Our ex husbands are like a favourite old pair of knickers, we kept them around for so long because they were comfortable once, but now we are starting to see holes in them that no amount of repairing will keep them up.
Amongst all the traditional role confusion I am surrounded by women who have had families, careers, mortgages and experiences that youth alone cannot provide. In a society that is obsessed with how young we look, we have become the dinosaurs, trying desperately not to look our age.
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| Venus of Hohlefels, the earliest Venus figurine, Paleolithic period, mammoth ivory, |
Historically the matriarchs were revered, they were the midwives, the carers, the healers, the story tellers. Yet now we are no longer the Venus but more like Pluto, no one can decide what we are but we are so far away that we have no relevance anyway.
About 18 months ago I decided I am sick of trying to look 35, I’m 53 and it took a lot to get me here. I stopped colouring my hair, beyond a couple of sessions of foils to help the transition from black to my now salt and pepper grey. I wear less makeup and my dress style is changed a little, comfort has priority over fashion, I have a style of my own and it rarely has any resemblance of anything seen on the catwalk.
Before and After - who would have thought my personality didn't change!
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a man hater. I still hold hope one day I will find a modern man, preferably around my age, that isn’t intimidated by my strength and independence. That wants a partner, not a mother, housewife or sex slave. I know these men exist because some of my friends are married to them. I still enjoy the company of men and do appreciate being treated like a lady, ( which is just mansplaining for respect) and realise there has to be some compromise for any relationship to work. I also don’t expect the man to pay for dinner, if we want equal pay we also have to pay our way.
I hope through this blog and my other social media I can encourage other women to embrace being over 50 and demystify some of the preconceived ideas about ageing women. My goal now is to grow old disgracefully and when the times comes I hope I die saying, “I wish I hadn’t done that”, not “I wish I had done that!”
