That Woman Right There (aka the one about aging)

In the past week, I've noticed something. Twice. Ok, it's not like it was some kind of revelation. No, on the contrary, I've seen it before, bemoaned it before. Maybe it's because the women in question are virtually my age. Maybe it's because I've found them both insanely attractive in the past. Maybe it's because I watched the movie and TV show they were featured in specifically because they were in the cast only to be disappointed. Not by anything even remotely related to their performances; they've always been good at what they do and still are. Sadly, I heard myself sigh as I shook my head ruefully. Man, that was totally unexpected. Though, in reality, that part is my fault. I probably should have seen it coming.

What? Age? Come on, Stacee, you can't be that shallow. Hold on. I may be shallow but I'm not that shallow. There is nothing wrong with aging. Hell, I see it every time I look in the mirror. And, if I do say so myself, I'm better looking now than I was in my twenties. And truly, there is something absolutely scintillating about a woman who ages gracefully. Who accepts her age and all that comes with it. Sure, that means graying hair, lines, wrinkles, and sagginess in places that never sagged before. But it also means strength, wisdom, and a certain serenity that only the passing of years can bring.

Yeah, Alicia Vikander is beautiful, sexy, and talented now. Give her twenty years, she'll be all that and more. Once a woman has settled into herself, when she fully understands what she brings to the world, when she finally stops giving two shits about what that world thinks of her - that is when she is truly beautiful.

You see, beauty isn't about a smooth, unlined face or a tight sculpted body. It isn't about perky breasts or an absence of stretch marks. It's about confidence. And not an I'm-prettier-thinner-more famous-than-she-is kind of narcissistic, boastful cockiness. I'm talking about a confidence born of trials, miles, successes, and failures.  A confidence of survival. If that comes with lines, wrinkles, and the aforementioned sagginess, bring it on. All of it. Because nothing is (emotionally, spiritually or physically) sexier than confidence. Nothing. A woman who wears her years like a badge of honor? Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am.

Back to Kate Beckinsale and Maria Bello... What was wrong with them if not the coming of age, the passing of years? That's just the thing. They haven't let the years pass. They're held in suspended animation. Admittedly, I'm out of my depth - thankfully - here. I don't know if it's plastic surgery or a few too many injections of some kind. When I see a woman with permanent duck lips and cheeks that smile even when her mouth isn't smiling, I assume she's had some "work" done in an effort to retain the beauty of her younger days.

These women have missed the boat. And the point. Part of what makes them unattractive, outside of the Frankenstein-like facial tinkering, is their lack of acceptance. Age is ok. When accepted and dealt with at face-value. It comes for all of us, it does. Some of us may be able to hold it off awhile, but eventually everyone ages. And it's ok. Better than ok. I like being almost fifty. I have an understanding of the world and my place in it that I never dreamed of when I was in my twenties or even my forties.

Granted, I'm not an actress fighting younger and younger women for prime roles. I have no idea what that must be like or feel like. To see your former career fade away. To have to reinvent yourself. When the years mean you're playing character roles rather than the femme fatale. I'd probably fuck the badge of honor and put a plastic surgeon on retainer also.

Or would I? I like to think I'd be Dianne Keaton. Or Meryl Streep. Or Jamie Lee Curtis. Those women still bring it. I might even argue better than they did in their youth.

We live in a superficial world. A world that judges aging women much differently than their male counterparts. Who did Kate and Maria star opposite? Pierce Brosnan and Mark Harmon, respectively. No one talks about them aging. No one talks about them missing out on good roles. Nope. In the meantime, women their age are scrambling to plastic surgeons in an effort to appear youthful or risk being put out to pasture.

So, yeah, waving around that badge of honor isn't easy for women. I get it. I don't blame Kate Beckinsale or Maria Bello or any of the others for trying to extend their youth. I simply wish they didn't feel like they had to.  I wish the world would let them embrace their lines, wrinkles, and sagginess; let them be their age and all that comes with it. Both the good and the bad. Because, there is nothing sexier than a confident woman past her well-defined "prime" with shoulders back, head held high, and middle finger (figuratively) extended suggesting to the world that it just might want to screw itself.

Or not. In truth, that woman? She doesn't care. The world can do what the world does. And she will damn well do what she wants regardless of anyone's opinion.

She is who I aspire to be. That. Woman. Right. There.


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