Beauty in Aging

There is a commercial on TV that I frequently see these days that disturbs me. It is an ad for product that removes "fine lines and tiny wrinkles" to make you look years younger, at least according to the word of the beautiful actors on the screen. It is similar to Botox and must be administered by a medical professional. It isn't the product that disturbs me as much as the ad itself, particularly the line one woman delivers. Different people say "I use it because..." giving their personal reason. One very attractive woman who is being embraced by an equally attractive man says, "I use it because he thinks I am younger than I am." This five second blurb pricks at my sensibility and aggravates my normally easy going acceptance of all things commerical. Why? Because it illustrates all too clearly the fact that our society no longer sees any value or beauty in the inevitable process of aging.

In less than two weeks I will celebrate my 46th birthday. And I do mean celebrate because every birthday signifies another year I have been able to live on this planet, sharing the joys and sorrows known as life. If I am lucky enough to live into my 90's, I am truly middle-aged and I am comfortable with that and all that accompanies it -- including the idea of looking my age. But that feeling, according to the standards now being set by our society, is no longer acceptable. Thanks in part to celebrities like Elizabeth Taylor, Cher, Priscilla Presley and Joan Rivers, it is no longer considered acceptable to grow old gracefully.

The idea of being beautiful in your 50s and 60s now seems to include lips puffed to bee-stung proportions, eyes so tightly stretched that many might assume there is Asian ethnicity in the genes, and cheekbones honed to a razor sharpness. Of course, anything over a size six in the wardrobe department is also considered nearly obese, with exception of the chest area which should firmly ride high over the unnaturally perky 36D cups. Women of any age now should now look as close to twenty-five as possible, even if it requires removing any part of the body or face that actually makes you your age.

I remember seeing an interview with an aging Audrey Hepburn a while back. I was struck by the thought of a what a beautiful woman she was. Not a beautiful older woman, or the beautiful woman she had been in her youth, but a beautiful woman altogether. Age had softened her, created a looked that exuded class, warmth and wisdom. I wasn't distracted by eyebrows pinched into her hairline and dyed coal black hair coyly draped over a misshapen cheek. Hers was a simple beauty of a woman aged into her sixties, seasoned by life.

When I look into my senior years, I can't help but think of my grandmother, a little old lady that looked remarkably like Granny in the Tweety and Sylvester cartoons. She was a tiny thing, with powder white hair and a soft peach complextion that surrounded her lively blue eyes. I can remember telling her that I loved how soft she felt because it made her better to hug. She was beautiful to me, to my cousins and to her own children, and she looked nothing like the senior starlets portrayed in the media today. She gave me the understanding of growing old gracefully.

While I may miss some of my looks from my twenties, especially the flat stomach and firmly set chin, I am much happier with who I am today. With every year that passes, I gain new wisdom and confidence. I no longer concern myself simple with how a pair of jeans fit or if I can turn someone's head. I just want to be that person my grandmother was to me, someone who my children and grandchildren look up to and value. For that is the true beauty in growing old; I honestly don't want someone to think "I am younger than I am."