I have been mining out the ageism in and around me for the past year in earnest and it continues to be a process. A spiral process. I often end up confronting the same fears and biases over and over again, only to work through them yet again. That definitely tends to happen around birthdays. And especially right now, as I’m in perimenopause and reckoning with the grief of never having had children or getting married.

I particularly appreciate your note about that — the reckoning years of 45–52. That made me cry. Very validating.

Part of the reason I wanted to write about how I was an “old lady” as a kid was to demonstrate the value I used to place in age. I used to see such worth in that, only to have it taken away from me by our culture. I feel like connecting more with my young self will help me regain that.

I am also working on claiming some of the words we use as insults and reframing them in strength. Words like “old,” “hag,” “crone.” I have ALWAYS loved the word crone — that’s so powerful to me. And I even have some odd love for the word “hag.” I want to learn to love and own these words and show that they can be something so much more than what we see in today’s culture.

xoxo