Pat Taub
I’m here to announce that you, the older woman, possess superpowers.
I realize this may sound a little crazy because you’re used to feeling diminished through the cultural messages which define you in terms of your aging body. But you’re much more than your wrinkles, reduced flexibility, puffy tummy and gray hair. Maturity has granted you superpowers. Isn’t it time to own them?
The older woman’s superpowers are the key to graceful aging. They bestow pride and a positive outlook.
Penelope Lively, the British memoirist, embodies graceful aging
A big superpower is the opportunity to deepen our close relationships now that we have unrushed time for these connections. Often our younger selves were too busy to be in the moment. Today I cherish anew my intimate relationships with family and friends. I listen more carefully to them, striving to see their perspective, especially when we disagree. A mature heart can overcome former knee jerk reactions. It’s one of my superpowers.
My family of adult children and grands , June, 2018, London, Queens Park. Youngest son is the photo bomber.
Here are some superpowers I share with other aging women:
Being a true grown up has made me calmer with a sharper focus. Now that I’m less reactive and less consumed with worry, I can see more clearly. I don’t get in my own way as much as when I was younger–something my mother constantly told me when I was growing up.
I care less what others think of me. This doesn’t give me a license to be mean or disrespectful, but to free myself from society’s expectations of being the compliant little old lady. I speak my mind, risking disapproval, when my beliefs are unpopular. I have more integrity.
The late Diana Athill, British writer, who freely voiced her opinions
Peggy Seeger, the 85-year-old folk singer, has my number when she triumphantly sings, “Here comes the invisible woman.” Like Peggy, I find a new freedom in my invisibility. Now I enter a restaurant or theater, happily free of the male gaze and of wardrobe scrutiny. I delight in surprising young people when they suddenly notice me after I’ve made an intelligent comment.
I make time to greet each day with gratitude. I give thanks for my health, financial security, and the fulfillment I receive from writing and teaching at Portland, Maine’s senior college. I take in small miracles anew rather than quickly registering them and moving on. When I pass a young mother being affectionate with her toddler, I bask in their tender act, grateful for the joy they bring to my day.
I love being eccentric, which I always have been to a lesser degree. Now I can be a full-blown eccentric when the spirit moves me, like wearing an outrageous outfit without giving it a second thought.
Being eccentric in a silly hat
Because I’m very curious, I love to strike up conversations with interesting strangers without worrying about their impressions of me. Usually they’re happy to converse, but when this doesn’t happen, it’s no big deal. (When my adult children are along, they might roll their eyes.)
Eccentric women in the public eye embolden me in my eccentricity. I draw inspiration from famous eccentric older women, like the British character actress Miriam Margoyles, who seems to say whatever crosses her mind, which is usually outlandish. She models humor that is engaging and not off-putting, although she has a favorite story of being too direct for the Queen.
Miriam Margoyles, reluctantly doing yoga
While I have plenty of days when world politics and mean-spirited public officials pull me down, I’m more resilient than I was decades ago. I like to think of myself as among those older adults whose emotional intelligence has expanded. A recent interview in the New York Times quoted psychologist, Dr. Ken Dychtwald, as saying, “Emotional intelligence rises as we age.”
Aging has made my heart bigger. I couldn’t ask for a better superpower.
