Invisibility
INVISIBILITY – I DON’T THINK SO!
In 2017, I felt the desire to write a love letter to myself: a song of thanks to the body and soul that has held me since 1956. It’s also a wider love letter to ALL the strong, awesome, ‘ordinary extraordinary’ women of the world; those I am blessed to know and those I have never met.
My Dearest Jeanie:
What a journey it has been from that illegitimate girl child of the 1950’s baby boom years, to a premier-cru 2016 woman. I feel compelled to take a moment to bow down and thank this scarred, beautiful body and soul for sustaining my life, and granting me the miracle of creating two new lives from the passionate joining of my love with another. This life I can honestly say, when the cheques and balances have been weighed, has been ‘an awfully big adventure’ to quote Peter Pan. Yes, I can feel my mortality walking more closely in the shadows, but I’m not allowing it to dictate my life script, any more than I did when I was a youth who was convinced I knew it all and was invincible…
This morning I stand naked in front of a full-length mirror, taking stock of the purely physical Jeanie. I hear a quote in my head from the Beckett play: Happy Days; “To have been always what I am—and so changed from what I was.” Oh my, the reflection is much changed from my youth, but not too shabby! I could, (if I allowed myself the self-flagellation) stand here picking myself apart—but what would be the point?
For the most part, I comfortably inhabit this age-spotted, wrinkly and headed south skin with pride and dignity. I have no wish for it to reflect back a surgically enhanced vision of its 60 years of wear and tear, as inside I know I would be lying to myself. My physical scars and blemishes are the marks that tell me how strong I am. They speak of the survivor and visually tell my story. For me, I want my body to look the very best it naturally can, given it’s ordinary extraordinary inhabitants history!
There are a few things to highlight in this acceptance speech of myself:
I bless Bravissimo, and Rigby and Peller for the anti-gravity lift for my 34H bajonkas, and for the support and comfort of high waistbands. I will clothe my body in what makes me feel personally awesome, whatever the time of day or occasion…and take the necessary pain relief when I wish to strut around in those killer heels. I will remain interested in fashion, as I always have been, but not a slave to its dictates.
I will colour my hair, not because I’m ashamed of the grey but because I have always loved to play with colour. I will wear makeup and have regular pedicures to avoid gnarly old person feet, along with regular dentist visits to (try and) avoid false teeth.
I shall, till my final breath, delight in the first brush of warmth from the sun on unclothed skin, dance and sing badly, pad around barefoot, nuzzle into the sweet smell of new babies, puppies and kittens, freshly opened bags of coffee, fresh warm bread, flowers, newly washed linens and swimming in nature.
I shall, continue to randomly hug, kiss and cuddle those I care for—and occasionally total strangers, sharing my love for them whenever the feeling overwhelms me, without apology or edit.
I shall, continue to kick ass, have opinions, demand to be seen, heard and counted as the evolving, caring, interested and engaged Jeanie I always have been.
My personal freedom was hard-won by previous generations of women, the ghosts of whom walk alongside me. It has taken a lot of life experience to stand nakedly in front of this mirror honestly liking what I see. I’m recognizing that we all have a unique journey through this life, battling our individual demons en route and with it comes the wisdom to see the bigger picture in glorious colour, not just black and white.
I feel no different at 60 inside my head, than I did at 26, so why should I countenance the world treating me any different when they encounter the visually older me? Or does it? Possibly the lack of young men turning heads as I pass? Or builders refraining from whistles and inappropriate comments? The young being uninterested in my opinions? I’m not wasting precious time considering this as a loss, when there is so much naughtiness to be engaging in, adventures to be had and fuckery to spread!
“I have had many crises in my life—most of them in my head.” Wise words said to me once long ago by an old friend. They stay with me as a reminder to keep perspective, always evolve. Few apologies and definitely no regrets.
With thanks in abundance from me to me.
Remember to always love and respect yourself girl.