Getting Old is Hairy

Those of you who read me on my various blogs know that I am not upset about aging. In fact, given good health, age is just a number. I really do believe that. My grandparents, the ones still alive, were OLD people at my current age. Truly, rocking-chair-stereotype old people. But we’re not that. I even wrote a post about the audience for “cronelit”.

My generation are active in lots of facets of life. Some of us used “a certain age”, with it’s retirement-money cushion, to pursue our dreams in TheThird Chapter of our lives.

But that positivity is being tested. And the culprit? Hair.

I noticed several years ago that I now have hair where I didn’t used to have it much (nose, face) and it’s disappearing where it used to be abundant (legs, underarms, head).

Huh? What’s with that?

My head hair used to be so thick I had trouble brushing it. I couldn’t get through doorways on humid

days. And forget trying to make all the strands behave. I had an unmanageable curly mess of a mane.

Leg and underarm hair left untended could be plaited after a few hours. (By the way, you need a friend to help with that. One cannot braid one’s underarms unaided.)

Okay, so it’s an annoyance to use a little electric gizmo to get rid of facial and nose hair. Kinda gross, even. But if kept up with, most people won’t notice the stubble.

And what a blessing to not have to mutilate, er, shave my legs and underarms every hour! That is pretty wonderful, I gotta say.

But my head hair? C’mon.

I am not happy that pulled back with a barrette, I have to search for bald spots and pull hair around to cover them. I am not happy that I have more forehead than in years past.

But my hair coming out in handsful? That’s just wrong.

I now look like I work in a fast food kitchen with my head wrapped up so I don’t scatter strands among the spaghetti. A hair in the soup? Not so appetizing.

And this is aging, folks. The dirty little secret that crones have kept to themselves. Well, I’m blowing the whistle. As you approach those happy golden years, I urge you to enjoy the less-hair parts and take charge to manage the bad one.

Yes, I mean shave your head and buy wigs in a veritable panoply of colors and cuts. Be a new person everyday. Live your inner life. And don’t sprinkle on other peoples’ parade--or food.

CAVEAT: This was a light-hearted take on aging, but you should see your physician if you are experiencing sudden hair loss to rule out causal medical conditions.

Dating and "Women of a Certain Age"

There seem to have been two times in my life when I have or have had large numbers of women friends who were unattached. When I was in the beginning of my post-high school education and early career, most of my friends were unmarried, some unattached even, as we prepared for and established our professional lives.

I was not a monogamous dater as some of my friends were. I loved juggling a bunch of guys, probably a power trip on my part, but whatever. Some friends were serial daters and that was okay, too. We were young and loved being in love but backed off if things got too serious. Until THE ONE, of course. My ONE came along much later than others’, but that was okay, too.

Now, in my “third chapter”, as Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot (TheThird Chapter: Passion, Risk, and Adventure in the 25 Years after 50) refers to it, I find, yet again, that I have large numbers of unattached women friends. Odd, isn’t it, this cycle of life?     

At this stage, most of my unattached friends are either divorced, widowed, or both rather than still seeking the first commitment. It’s strange to find myself in the same, yet different place. It feels like the same stream in many ways, yet is not. Not really.

Conversations, as in earlier years, often cycle around to whom one is seeing and how that’s working out. Only it’s different now. Now the talk might be of how difficult it is to find someone just to go to movies and sports events with. Guys of “a certain age” appear to be more interested in hook-ups than hanging out. Whereas, my women friends are more interested in companionship than in cohabiting. They want a friend to spend time with, to snuggle with (or perhaps more), but they want the relationship in that order. Not a quick hook-up with no later dates.

Ha! But maybe that was always the case. Maybe women evolved, but men didn’t? Maybe men are still in the “notches on the belt” stage? That sounds harsh, but I’m just reporting what I hear.

If you’re a woman “of a certain age”, what do you want out of a relationship at this stage of life?

Next week, Karen Chilton Wilder will be here sharing about types of guys she's dated. Nice companion piece, eh? Please come by next Tuesday.