It’s not the new 40.  It’s not middle age.  We can “look great for 60” but not great for youth.

We assiduously seek distractions to thwart the reality of our aging mind and body from penetrating our awareness.  But it’s there.  Senses have slowly diminished, wrinkles have rapidly appeared.  We try to camouflage the signs to no avail, as our hands, eyes, and memories defiantly persist in revealing the truth. 

And the truth is that we are no longer, and will never be, edgy, trendy, or new. 

And so we look for purpose, confirmation, validation— anything to help dilute our biggest fear—- marginalization.

Yes, we acknowledge the gifts of maturity, wisdom, understanding, and insight. We are grateful that we are here to experience the sixties, the seventies, and pray for the eighties, nineties, and more. 

Nevertheless, we have earned the right to grieve for what is gone, what is lost.  The past is known, quantifiable.  But, what is to come?  We can only imagine, speculate, hope, and fear.  #60@realwomenwin