The Art of Aging as a Woman

Being a woman ain’t no cakewalk at all, especially in a society that deems a woman old and washed up at the age of 30. But someway, somehow I have managed to survive turning 50 years old.

I was depressed in the months leading up to my birthday. I was grieving over the loss of my brother, coping with the pandemic, and getting diagnosed with epilepsy. I cried literally every day from February to December. But that isn’t healthy at all so I managed to find some ways to keep me calm.

I started watching the cartoons of my childhood. In January, Me TV started showing episodes of Popeye, Tom and Jerry, and Bugs Bunny and Friends every Saturday morning and I haven’t missed an episode. Watching those cartoons brings me so much joy because they bring back memories of the little girl whose biggest issue was whether she should eat a bowl of cereal for breakfast or nag her mother into making her some scrambled eggs.

I also started creating Tiktok videos featuring me singing (howling) along to some of my favorite music. Music that makes my soul sing and body move. I cackle madly when I watch the videos, knowing that singing is not a talent of mine at all but it’s good seeing the happiness in my eyes.

And most importantly, I decided to embrace my age. So many people I know and loved didn’t make it to age 50. So I will be strutting around like I’m the baddest bitch in America. Yes I’m fat, my hair is turning gray, and I have some funky ass dark circles under my eyes that won’t disappear but I’m still here. And proud as fuck about it. So ladies, embrace becoming a Crone and stop giving a fuck about the opinions of others, in particular, the opinions of men. It is in their best interests to keep women insecure and filled with self loathing, groveling for crumbs. Fuck that dumb shit girlies. Live your according to the standards that you have set up for yourself and keep rising to the top.

The Howler