Be Seen

Over the last week two super crappy things have happened to me.

First, one of my favorite clerks asked me if I was 55, because that would make me eligible for the senior citizen discount.

"I have ten years to go, actually," I said, smiling. Liam asked if I was laughing or crying when we got into the van. I told him I wasn't sure.

Then, only a few days later, the young woman checking me out at Kroger asked me if I was Liam's grandmother.

WTH???

First, I know my gray hair is confusing. Many women my age are either coloring their gray (which is fine! Color away! Do what makes you happy!) or don't have enough for it to matter. Secondly, I had stayed up two nights in a row until well past 1 a.m. watching Outlander because I signed up for the free 7 day trial and I'm cheap and was going to attempt to watch all 4 available seasons in a week.

All this to say, I may not have been putting my best (read: youngest) face forward.

My vanity was wounded. I couldn't stop looking in the mirror, especially the rear view mirror which is notoriously unkind.

I did what any forty-something would do in my shoes. I researched the best facials, moisturizers, make-up, and clothing to wear at my age. I've even ordered fancy underpants.

Well, cotton underpants, because I'm old-fashioned at heart.

These little instances have made me think, though, about how I'm seen in the world. Because honestly, I still feel 25. I'm shocked when I see a curvy, gray-haired me in photos.

I could color my hair, and I absolutely consider it. It's not worth the psoriasis or financial cost to me, though.

You can bet, though, that I'll be practicing yoga and taking walks. I'm employing every moisturizing technique out there. I've already begun updating my wardrobe thanks to ThredUp.

Look! I think the moisturizer is taking effect.

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I've told you before that, for me, my forties have been fraught with introspection. I'm still there. As my children get older I cannot help but wonder what my next steps are, what I can offer to leave my mark. Occasionally I give into the thought that I've missed the boat.

Youth is revered across cultures but American media truly idolizes the young.

To be young, thin, and female is glorious thing in this country. I am one of those three things - though Mom insists that I'm still young.

A couple of years ago when I was still settling into being forty I had a conversation with one of my kids' young friends - eighteen or nineteen years old, I mean. He said that getting old and fat would be the worst.

"No, getting fat really isn't the worst," I assured him.

He felt terrible for saying it, and I know it was not meant to hurt me. He was not telling me that my life was meaningless because I was overweight.

But boy, that message is out there.

That message invades my mind even when I think it hasn't.

I'm not going to pretend its all giggles and kicks to be the curvy one, either. I remember being on an amusement ride a few years ago. I was put in a separate cart from my family, with two thin people. Ugh.

The dude kept pulling the bar down, the bar that we were sharing, and wondering why it wouldn't come down further. My face burned because I was the reason it couldn't come toward his extremely flat belly. Also, he was really hurting my tummy with that dang bar.

Moments like those suck.

Then you move on.

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So if the worst has happened to me, if my fear of being nearly middle-aged and overweight has happened, shouldn't that empower me?

I think so.

Several of my friends with average sized bodies suffer with chronic health conditions. I know that they would trade a lot of things for my body size that comes with healthy organs.

In some ways I feel I owe it to them to not allow the size of my body or the color of my hair to dictate what I actions I take in this world. There are times when I take a longer walk or choose a steeper hiking path and think, "I'm doing it for my friends who can't." My body melts away in those moments and I'm simply grateful for joints and muscles that cooperate.

Back to my vanity, I have noticed as my daughters have grown into young women men look at me differently, or not at all. They really look at my daughters differently which invokes all kinds of animalistic feelings inside my mama-bear heart.

I read articles like What 50 Looks Like now: The invisibility of middle-aged women and I wonder why this happens and if I should care. My sex appeal has never been a huge focus for me, so I don't think it's that.

I do think this: I still have a lot to offer to the world. I don't want to be invisible.

My kids have always been mortified that I say hello to everyone I pass. This has been my way since I was in my twenties. Life is too short to not be friendly, and God is too good not to adore my fellow humans.

There is this, also, though: I refuse to be invisible. I will be seen for who I am not what I look like. I'm not doing it for male attention, either. There's plenty of that at home. What I want is for the world to see that we, women, are so much more than bodies.

We are beings. Beautiful, glorious, revolutionary beings.

Here's a thing I have really noticed about my forties: my relationship with women is vital to how I feel about myself. Women validating my life, seeing me for who I am, is far more important to me than whether men find me attractive.

I know that I have the luxury of being married for 23 years to prop those feelings up on, but I think it's important.

Recently I was talking with two average sized female friends about my irrational fear of heights. One friend told me that repelling cured that same fear in her. I confessed that I had been considering learning to repel but that I was fearful that my weight would be too much.

I made some more self-deprecating jokes and we all laughed.

"No!" my friend exclaimed, laughing, "You'd be fine!"

What's cool is that she really meant it.

She wasn't laughing at my fear or pretending that I wasn't overweight. She sees me for who I am and believes I can do something hard and scary, and that makes me brave.

Being seen shrinks the fear and grows the brave. We can do anything when we are seen for our authentic self.

Be brave, misfits. May you be seen as you are.