Permission to age
a reminder for ALL ages because better to learn earlier than later
Permission to age is freeing your 50 something year old self from the idea that you must look like a beautiful 20 yo, 30 yo or 40 yo. Despite what Hollywood and all those face cream ads say, you are not supposed to have a forever 20 year old beauty.
Grasping is stupid. It doesn't deserve you.
Hi friends,
True story. I ran into someone I haven’t seen in a while on the day of my birthday (today!) and after the kiss kiss hug she said to me: I am so glad to see that you are aging too.
(I don’t think she knew it was my birthday but then again, I don’t think it would have made a difference. This ‘girl’ is known for speaking her mind.)
Well… the old me would have thought omg how dare she and really! as I attempted the best I could to smile politely and pretend I could be all cool and laugh it off.
The old me would have been silently offended, carrying around these words like a knife in the gut and obsessively looking in the mirror doing that eye lift thing where you make your eyes seem oriental-ishy.
The old me would have gone home and cried
all alone
because well, crying because you are aging is embarrassing for a human who has worked hours a day for decades to erase the conditioning, let go of perfectionism, be self-loving, heal her inner child, and feel whole…
alone because I would want to hide all of my petty, undeserving-of-me emotions from my two daughters.
journal entry from an old me, march, 2010
How many times have I prayed to my reflection to please give me the strength to love myself, to look past the mirror, hear something kinder than the hateful words, look into my beautiful soul, listen to the love of a full, opened heart
to not pass such vicious vanity and lifetime suffering on to them
(weight is not worth weight is not worth weight is not worth)
to break cycles of image-obsession pathetically passed on for generations
(i wonder how far this goes back, who was the last human in my lineage that effortlessly loved themselves? wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could meet?)
and to please give me the power of acceptance - that I can be the best example as possible (yes! show them that you love, accept, and forgive yourself) but that I cannot protect them always and forever. This will be their work as mine has been mine.
to accept that it is harder than ever to love oneself at every age. (i foresee it getting harder and harder.)
I pray that my daughters shall find their journey early on, outgrow bob and weave the systematic defacement and destruction of self and honor their beauty as their momma does. And at the same time,
I must trust that the self-aversion, if unavoidable, will transform into their ‘right of passage’ to loving. Help me to stop trying to make sense of this human condition - it is as if we need to cover ourselves with bruises and beat ourselves to the ground before we discover that the only way to the Light is through our own permission to love ourselves.
i pray that one day i will reread this and be able to say that i no longer need to pray for love.
The old me would have silently mourned something undefinable while standing at the kitchen counter, gratifying/punishing myself with a family-size box of fake healthy granola full of white poison and calories that makes me fart and then washed it down with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s non-dairy Chunky Monkey ice cream
then cried some more.
However not now. Not this me.
This me hugged her again and said, thank you!, letting out an audible sigh of relief.
Yes. Relief. Her words told me that I have the freedom to age! I did not receive permission from her words, but rather a loving remembering
that none of us are meant to be eternally young. Not even me.
A memory of something that I know and trust even when I forget - the opportunity to age is a generous gift, the most generous gift. Not a given, not for everyone.
I was reminded of this last week when my new next door neighbor told me that she lost her 8 year old son in a freak accident. I am reminded of this whenever I walk by a TV turned on to the news. Life is precious. Loss will choose us, often without warning. And nonetheless, we always have choices.
Reminder: I am a chosen one. For some unexplainable reason I have been given the possibility to keep on living.
The question: What am I doing with this?
The only right answer: Make it serve. Keep practicing Love.
I have always been told how young I look.
It is nice until it starts feeling like pressure. I may sound ungrateful, but it can feel like a load. Youth, beauty, talent, success… Someone made us believe that once you get it (have it), you have to defend it. And the defending never stops. People will start expecting things of us - the forever up-keep. It is impossible, it will leave you prostrate.
But no… this is not true.
Reminder: Nobody can make us anything.
The fear of losing, it is ours - the only way to move forward, is to own it.
journal entry, from an old me, october, 2018
things that we don't say outloud:
who am I if I no longer look young? who am I when someone sees me as old? who am I when men don't look at me anymore? who am I when I lose the reflection in the mirror that never looked good enough, but was better than the one I have now?
the most terrifying answer: nobody.
the truth is that we make ourselves feel as if we must maintain the appearance of things at all costs because we fail to see that our true worth has nothing to do with how we (believe we) look or what we do
What does it mean to be worthy?
to be who you are when you Become Love.
Love will always make you Somebody.
I have been so conditioned. (Do you know anyone who hasn’t been? Please share.)
I had felt this pressure for so long
even though I have never been willing to pay the price.
(No mom, thanks but no thanks. I still don’t want botox. I will have to accept that by now you are starting to look younger than me.)
An older friend once told me that the best thing about aging is no longer giving a damn. But this is not a given either. You gotta get there - arrive at self-love - otherwise you will cling onto something you cannot control until you croak
and way before you die, all of this clinging ages you in the creepiest way - you become stone.
The truth is that we don’t want to hear the Truth.
fake it til you make it, but deep down you know that you will never make it.
and the inner voice says: you’re a fraud. and this time it is true.
We associate comments like my friend's as offensive. Why?
The Truth is never offensive. It is either Truth or it’s not. It sounds so simple.
But it is as if the Truth shouldn’t be said or even thought. Better to stick the reality of aging under the newest eye serum like peas under the tomato sauce on your plate when you are a child - we truly believe that nobody will notice.
(oh dear, will that inner child ever heal?)
Like, if we ignore it, don’t speak about it, it doesn’t happen. Like, we can skip straight to the dessert and be eternally young - ageless! - forever and ever and ever.
“I don't have a choice. What can I do about it? Stop getting older? Disappear?" - Sarah Jessica Parker
The Truth is that
we take comments about aging (or anything interpretated as criticism) as saying we are less beautiful outside and inside. Whatever they say, we hear this: The whole of me is UGLY.
You know what is UGLY? - the mental stories we create.
A while back I read something that actress, Andie Macdowell said.1
“Aging is not about losing your beauty… Beauty changes… I think aging is something you either have to decide that you like or you don’t. It’s a choice.”
Here is a thought! -
Wouldn’t it be absolutely extraordinary if already in our teens we began looking to role models of timeless beauty - humans, who love themselves and love themselves more and more as they age? What would happen if we were all exposed to the opposite of what we see now on social media - true, authentic love?
(extra thought: I am thinking most of the ones who truly love themselves aren’t on TikTok.)
What I would say to my younger self?
cultivate your inner beauty now because this is what will keep you truly beautiful as time passes. when you grasp onto your looks, outer beauty becomes a weight and wears off too quickly like that gorgeous new glossy lipstick. you will rot instead of ripen.
i don’t care what age your are. don’t wait. start today.
Before saying goodbye my friend looked me in the eyes and said, “you are so beautiful!”
Being seen in this way - it feels like the best thing on earth.
final words
”Everything of value is defenseless.” - Dutch surrealist artist and poet Lucebert
The things that make life worth living—genuine connection, love, beauty, health, time —require us to be “open, off-guard, and defenseless” because these things are inherently vulnerable to being hurt, broken, or taken away. Trying to protect beauty by becoming closed-off, rigid, and fearful of losing our beauty is the inevitable destruction of our beauty.
you have nothing about yourself to defend. take the permission slip. give yourselves a hug and live.
reminder: the way to beauty is Love.
What is beautiful?
Being vulnerable. Not locking away your true self from the world for any reason. Letting yourself be seen, touchable - touchable is beautiful.
Being a beautiful human at your age right now. And knowing that your wisdom to love yourself is the most beautiful part of you. Knowing that whatever age you are, you have probably not loved yourself enough for way too long. Knowing that you cannot change the past but you can change the way you love yourself right now.
You are still here. This is wonderful.
To be honest, I will fall off this love thy whole self trip and find myself back in a place of lacking. I may even stumble with the words, how is it possible that I am here again? But it is okay. The difference is not in the perfection of our love, it is knowing how to return to it every time it strays.
So today, I am here. It is my birthday and I am giving myself permission to age and be loved. At 56, I am doing this - only me.
Celebrate with me. Go and light yourself a candle. No wishes, just permission to be. This Life. Mine and yours, me with you.
Now that’s beautiful.
love and more love, xo Danni
you may also like this
some essays that made me really think and feel recently
The one skill that separates you from 99% of people by Eleni Rizopoulou
Still the same girl (a poem) by April Gough 🦄
I Asked Nora Ephron Why I Was Feeling Low on a Beautiful Day by Neera Mahajan
If you ever ignored your heart, you are luckier than most (a poem) by Gala
Pull Up A Stool by 3AM Coffee (Robert)
Love this and happy birthday!!
I love this and that it’s your birthday! We are such similar souls, and I could talk for days about this topic. My signs of age are my story, I hide none of them