Age

and dropping back into to your in box

This week I thought it was time to drop in and say hi and tell you about stumbling into a twitter conversation on age and getting older “do you panic about getting older” a middle aged woman asked? Welcoming a distraction from the chaos that is our country’s politics I responded with a “no” from my whole heart. I honestly do not feel anything but blessed for every birthday and turn around the sun I have.

I have just turned 52 and am absolutely delighted to wake up every day in a body that has served me well. I have nothing but gratitude for my self. Yes I wish I was slimmer and fitter but am I unhappy with my self, no. My body has carried me well and been flipping amazing at that. My hysterectomy was well over due, my body held me through all that, I should of have a hysterectomy years before I actually had one. It’s only now when I have the space to look back that I can see how ill I really was, but “them’s the breaks” to quote an outgoing washed up liar of a prime minister.

You don’t have to look back very far in history to know too many people have died before reaching 52, that’s without including the people we lost in the peak of the pandemic or people we lost through extreme acts of harm, political slackness and man made aggression.

During the transatlantic slave period the average life span of an enslaved woman in America was 34. In 1900, the average life span of a woman living in the UK was 52. Currently, a woman of average means living in India is expected to live to 72.

Growing old is a privilege - especially if you are poor or a person from the global majority. My ancestors died so I could live and I do so in full acknowledgment of their sacrifice. Part of that gratitude is never panicking about getting older. I don’t think I ever have. I don’t see those milestone birthdays as book ends to successful or not decades.

I was nearly taken in by the story of my biological clock, thinking I had to rush and have a baby when I was approaching in my 40’s until till my gynaecologist told me my fertility was the same as a 25 year olds. My body doesn’t clock watch or keep time and I’ve since read how the concept of the ‘biological clock’ was invented by economists along with consumerism after world war II when they realised the country needed more babies to be born so they could grow up, start paying taxes and keep the economy going.

My conclusion is that these age related milestones which we women in western countries have all become so attached to are patriarchal control narratives that are in truth, complete bollocks.

People have always commented I look ‘younger’ than my years. I used to believe them, I know now that I don’t at all. I look younger than my years when compared to white women and that has been the consistent and inaccurate comparison yard stick. Most people of African, Asian, Hispanic and Middle Eastern decent look younger than their white peers, it’s not uncommon, it’s our normal.

We all know we can’t compare apples and pears so why do people keep trying to compare the white experience to that of everyone else. We are not the same, we have different body make up, different levels of wealth to look after ourselves and different access to healthcare. Can you imagine black British women at 52 if we’d had access to healthy environments and didn’t just have the science - darker skin can show age more slowly because it has more melanin (dark pigment that determines sun sensitivity). The more melanin you have, the more protection you have against photoaging, or skin damage from too much exposure to the sun’s rays.

Naomi Campbell (pictured via Harpers Bazar), Halle Berry, Michelle Obama, Dorothy Koomson, all in their 50s and look like black women in their 50’s.

I hope that if anyone asked them if they panicked about ageing they too would say - no - life is for living and we appreciate every day.