Dear all, when we talk about our children’s teenage years, we’re also talking about our own midlife. The term perimenopause is currently flooding my timeline, often unfortunately accompanied by all sorts of product recommendations, because, of course, there’s plenty of money to be made from women’s uncertainty.
I read that midlife is “awesome” because “the middle finger grows”, I read that midlife is terrible because hot flushes and sleep disturbances reduce quality of life. I read about changes in digestion, about weight gain even though you’re not eating more, about – yes! – almost the compulsion that every woman now urgently and absolutely needs strength training.
(Interjection: Did your mums go to the gym? Mine certainly didn’t. And sure, we can learn new things, but I just don’t like this imposed, almost hysterical “you must, you must” approach; it has the opposite effect on me – I always feel like opening a bag of crisps when someone says that, or heading to the currywurst stand.)
I think about how, even at our age, our bodies are still being judged – our skin, our bums, our outfits. I do the maths in my head about what women spend on supplements and facial and nail treatments, and I feel like I’m part of an industry. An industry of insecurity and optimisation. And I don’t see any equality here; there’s far more industrial emphasis on beauty for women than for men.
I see men who loudly proclaim how important equality is, yet who are out and about day and night for work, selling women’s ideas as their own, actively warning other staff about female colleagues who might challenge their job positions… and all this whilst their wives look after the children and the household (that’s what she wants!). We’re noticing this now. Perhaps we’ll even speak up about it (it’s good to call out injustices)!
I see daughters who are clever and beautiful, yet now believe they have lipoedema or ADHD, because being out of the ordinary is all too often portrayed as a weakness, a diagnosis or an illness (I’m not talking about the actual condition of lipoedema or the actual diagnosis of ADHD – of course these should be taken seriously – I’m talking about assumptions that cause anxiety). I see many young men drinking protein shakes and building muscle.
I hear about hormone gels that save marriages because the new female rage is now kept in check again (a friend’s own statement, certainly not representative). And as I write, I realise how melancholic this text is becoming, even though that wasn’t the plan at all. Perhaps I’m tired of it all? Perhaps I’m lucky to live in the countryside surrounded by woods. Trees accept me just as I am.
When I listen to conversations about microneedling or cold chambers or CO2 treatments, I sometimes wish that, amidst all this optimisation, there was more focus on inner beauty, on brain training rather than gyms or beauty salons. On further education and training that fulfils us, so that our minds become more beautiful. Our innermost selves. So that we can shine. Outwards.
I’d also find that such a lovely role model for our teens (because wow, I hear of 8-year-olds buying face masks and hair treatments at the chemist’s)! You’ve got sum X – do you invest that money in optimising your own body or in a great social project? Into a meaningful cause? Perhaps both are even possible, but since a full tank of petrol costs as much as my first car, I no longer assume that most people can manage both. Perhaps it’s better to support society or invest in a hobby rather than the pharmaceutical industry with Botox and the like?
Making the most of our midlife
I’m not interested in the wrinkle on your forehead, but what have you learnt recently? Have you grown wiser? Can you view life from a new perspective? How have you changed? Which path did you take? What gives you depth, amidst all the world’s superficiality? Is life really about the smoothest skin, or perhaps a sense of happiness from within? Aren’t laughter and light-heartedness the most beautiful beauty secrets?
And yes, damn it, midlife really gives us a run for our money. It doesn’t go easy on us; it’s allowed to show us what we really want; it’s allowed to make us quit because we’re fed up with working for a stupid boss; it’s allowed to make us doubt our choices at crossroads; it’s allowed to change friendships and relationships. Midlife is a shake-up.
We shake things off and see what still sticks with us, a bit like a schnitzel in breadcrumbs that loses a few more crumbs when you tap it. And of course, we’re then allowed to say: Hey, I’m doing more for myself now. Perhaps even more for my skin and thighs, but possibly not just that. Perhaps also for something bigger, something transformative, something lasting.
We now have life experience, we see things more clearly, we can sort out who or what still suits us. We can discover new things and get to know ourselves all over again. We set the priorities ourselves; don’t let me – who’s just spouting unfiltered thoughts here – influence you in the slightest, because that too can be part of midlife: that we no longer necessarily let ourselves be swept away by the tide, that we stand firm even when others do things differently. On the path to greater inner peace, however we may get there…
What has changed for you in midlife? Have you cut ties with friends who no longer fit in? Have you taken up a new hobby or revived an old one? Have you changed jobs again or undertaken further training? Are you eating differently or finding that you’re clearer in your decisions? Do you now notice when a man pushes in front of you at work? How has your relationship with your own appearance changed? Do you feel unsettled or empowered by all the advice for women going through perimenopause? Do tell us.
