In the last year, three events have stood out about my age which made me feel weird. They are examples of why I am writing The Crone.
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Event Number One: Climbing the stairs at my place of employment, a young college student watched me climbing with comparative ease, because I exercise a lot. “Good for you!” she said. “The way you’re climbing those stairs.”
“Why is it exceptional?” I said. “I do this every day. Is it because I have…gray hair?”
“Well, my mom couldn’t do it.”
“I am only 53. It seems I should be able to do this.”
“My mom is 53.”
Touche, young college student.
***
Event Number Two: At the movie theater, both my husband and I were given the senior discount, and no one asked to see our ID. This is sort of like getting illicit beer in reverse.
In many businesses, the senior discount starts at 55. I am not quite there yet. Whenever Bryon is asked about the senior discount, he asks, “What do I get? If I get something good, the answer is yes.” Honestly, though, next year I will be the legitimate age for the senior discount, and he already is. Internally, I don’t think about myself as someone who looks like they should have a senior discount, but in reality I do.
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Event Number Three: I started quipping with a family at a restaurant about what the kids should and shouldn’t eat. Their dad said, “See, you have another grandma there.” I was taken aback, but let’s be honest. If I did have kids, I could easily be a grandma, so I kind of decided to agree with the father, and let that roll on by.
***
Hmmm. I am culturally conditioned to think of myself as younger, and I also don’t feel like I am an old person. I am a crone, though, remember?
Here’s one of the secrets about being an old person. You do have some more aches and pains, and yup, your warranty is getting closer to up, so metaphorically speaking, your fan belt is breaking, your alternator is worn, you get the idea. However, inside, you still kind of feel like the same person you are. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you do notice wrinkles and gray hair. Still, I wasn’t prepared to actually have other people identify me as an old person based on the perception of how I thought of myself as just me. You know you are a crone when people assume age is your defining trait.
Let me say that again. You know you are a crone when people assume age is your defining trait. No matter your education, your sparkling wit, your beauty, your charm, age is now who you are.
I like being old. I’m not sure I like that. There’s a word for that. It’s ageism, right? We crones (and old dudes too, yes, guys have to work on it) have to remind people constantly we do whatever we want, that age is not our limitation, but our strength. People are people regardless of what we look like on the outside.
It’s a battle. Not only are we fighting generations of stereotypes about the elderly, we are also fighting our own conditioning about what aging should be. I’m going to give you homework this week, since school is starting again. Take your crone self out of the house and do something you think is totally age inappropriate. Not illegal, necessarily, but something that makes you feel like yourself. It’s important to be true to ourselves, and not conform to the idea that age is our defining trait.
What am I going to do? I’m going to spend my weekend running role playing games for my friends. This is not an unusual activity for me, but some might view it as age inappropriate, and I like living in my imagination. Play is important to me at any age.
I’d love to hear what kind of things you’re getting up to.