Some things, I think, aren’t meant to be fixed. Mostly because they aren’t broken.
Here’s a news flash: we all get older.
I think that honestly comes as a shock to some people out there. With all the “remedies” for aging out there, you’d think that getting older was some dread disease, like in “Logan’s Run”. Not that I relish the thought of aging, mind you. Some of it really seems like something I’d rather avoid. But those are the cases where chronic diseases come into play, and I’m trying to take better care of myself so that doesn’t happen. But I digress…
In what reality did it seem like a good idea to inject poison into one’s body to kill nerve endings to stave off the appearance of wrinkles? Or to keep lopping off various chunks of skin to make it look younger? It just seems so strange here. Not that all plastic surgery is bad, but why have so many people, because men are starting to do it as well, bought into this? And the way some people who are older than me dress? Even if they do have the body for it, who wants to see a 45 year old woman wearing micro Abercrombie shorts, a naval ring, and a midriff bearing tank top? There are some beautiful stylish clothes out there that won’t make you look like a hoochie mama. Or a frump.
Who made getting older a disease? What’s wrong with getting older?
I blame marketers of all ilk. If you go back before WWII, it wasn’t youth that was revered, it was adults. But after the war, things shifted and kept shifting to what we have now. So I guess it’s no wonder that as someone gets older, and notices that things aren’t for them anymore, they feel left out. And so they try to stay “in”, no matter how ludicrous the process or results.
I like being older. I’m 37, which means I’ve “crossed over the rainbow bridge” into the next demographic. It’s ok. Really. There’s nothing “wrong” with me, and I don’t need “fixing”. So stop trying to tell me otherwise.