Assessing the View

I don't know why I signed up for the photo shoot.

I think it's because I've been doing them on the "decade" mark since I turned 30 and it's a tradition. But this one feels daunting...because it's the first decade I know I am starting to "age". 

I think I started going to professional photos shoots when I turned 30 because I was in awe that I was that old.

I had my wedding photos at 40 - and they were amazing and I was so happy I still looked good.

I took my 50 photo because I wanted to capture my last "sexy" shot for my husband, now that we were happily settled in our marriage.

And now...almost 60. I'm not sure.

I was "all in" when I saw the ad for the "50 over 50" project being done by a local photographer. I love that sort of stuff. I wanted to be part of the "group". And I felt pretty good.

Until I saw recent photos and videos of me. I'm not the "me" I was. 

And then I saw more photos of the project of subjects who were just over the 50 mark. They looked amazing.

That used to be me.

Now I'm not. I'm going to be 60 this year. The 50s were very hard on me. The me I see in the mirror now is not the Me I think I am. The acceptance of this is becoming increasingly difficult. I never minded my age - never. I was so proud I looked so young. But that time is over now.

The years are showing.

So I'm working hard on acceptance. Some things are making this hard. 

My mom passed away from lymphoma at 65. I can't wrap my head around the fact that if I have the same fate as her, I only have 5 more years. I know that's not statistically factual, but it's always hanging over my head.

I am in alot of constant pain and debilitating fatigue. I have a deteriorating spinal condition which was stabilized when I was 49 with a lot of hardware in my lower back, but it can never be corrected and can only be managed with rest and medication.

I have a subclinical form of connective tissue disease. I was formally diagnosed with UCTD (undifferentiated connective tissue disease-an autoimmune disease) in 2008, but technically that is in remission. I am left with secondary fibromyalgia....simply put, I have disabling fatigue and bodywide muscle pain every day with no cure and only managed...with rest and medication.

I get migraines a couple of times a month. Thank God for medication that works on me almost every time.

So...aside from the normal aging issues of dry spotty saggy skin, fading eyesight, greying hair and menopausal weight gain, I am in daily pain and fatigue and the things I can do for enjoyment are dwindling.

So I see a road ahead that has less options and more problems every year.

I have a loving family which makes this all bearable and gives me moments of unfettered joy - but my children are all but grown (my youngest is 17 and my oldest is 36) so my active mothering days are over and they were the best moments of my life.

So I end my 50s with less hope than I started my other decades.

I end my 50s more tired and pained than in my other decades.

So why am I doing this photoshoot? I honestly don't know.

But it has made me look at myself and see what I can salvage and do with what I have.

I treated myself to "retail therapy" yesterday and decided a full wardrobe makeover is needed. I need to dress for the body I have - not the body I had.

And I need to love this woman that I am. This body has traveled almost 6 decades with me and I need to take care of what I was given. I may be luckier than my mother and have more than 5 years left...but even if I don't, I have to enjoy what time I have.

This will probably be my last photo shoot. I have a pretty good picture of who I am after all.

Year Fear

May 19, 2021

This year is terrifying me. For multiple reasons.

The reason I feel the most everyday is that America is the not the country I remember growing up in. I was born at the beginning of the Flower Power movement and went to the school in the Swinging 70s. I graduated college and married at the beginning of the Roaring 80s and was a single mother in the 90s...which I have no name for but I loved. I remarried and had my last babies in the Aughts...the 2000s. And I was happy.

And then things began to change. I had major health issues and surgeries leading up to 2011. I lost the ability to run and bend and do my lifelong yoga postures easily. It seems to have been a long decade of losing things ever since...and now I'm almost finished my 50s and I don't recognize the person I am and the world I live in since I started this decade.

When I had to pull my boys out of public school in 2012 to give them a fair education, I lost the sense that I was "one of the crowd". I was the oddball mom who homeschooled her kids in one of the best school districts in the state. 

But I gained the best years with my family I've ever had.

When I went back to work in 2015 in order to pay for their private school when homeschool was done, I lost my babies. My youngest broke the connection with "mommy" hard. And fast. I went from holding his hand everywhere to not getting a hug or a kiss. For years. It almost broke me. 

But I gained a new education, a new certification and skill and new career to add to my knowledge and experience.

Next, I lost my battle with weight - and my waist. In 2004, after I had my second boy in less than 2 years, I found myself 10 pounds heavier than my "norm". No matter how I tried, or used the same methods that had worked before, I never got to my pre-Benjamin weight of 130. This was also my high school weight and my wedding weight and although it took more effort over the decades, I was always able to get there up until now. Until after my last child. I couldn't crack 140 again.

When I went back to work in 2015 I weighted 145 and was hoping that not being in the kitchen would help my weight. However....I was chair-bound for 5 days a week now and my weight slowly but steadily increased. In 2018, an additional combination of new antidepressants, antihypertensive, antihistamine and anxiety anxiety medications caused me to skyrocket from 145 to 163 in only a few months...even while going to the gym. After I realized the drug-weight connection, I went off all my meds, tried dieting again and got back down to a reasonable 155. 

In December 2019, my overwhelming fatigue and pain finally led me to cut back my work hours to 20/wk, and only 3 days in the chair. That helped my health and fatigue immensely as well as my weight. This past 18 months, hard work gets me at 150 and occasional dips down to the high 140s. But I have to really work hard to get there...and stay there.

But my body has forever changed. I am tormented by every single style that has a waist. I have none. I look forever 4 months pregnant. The "Barkley barrel stomach" has found me. I am a long way from obese..only 5 pounds from not even being overweight...yet here I am wearing a size 14 or XL with a 35" waist and no clothes will make me look sexy again. 

I don't want to give up...but I can't see what else I can do. More exercise or dieting does nothing. I am stuck in this body here forever. It's not horrible..and I know my mom would have killed to be this thin...but I'm so sad and angry and embarrassed. And there are no answers. I can't even discuss it with anyone because all my closest friends and family have a harder time than I do. So I keep my mouth shut and just look with incredulity at every fashion I can't wear. So funny that even in the days of "body pride" with large women dressing like they're skinny...I can't. Because I am not heavy all over.. just a preggo belly.

Why does this bother me so much? Maybe it's just on top of the other losses I've had this decade...daughter, granddaughters, sons-in-law........who knows? All I know is that this decade has really sucked. 

I hope my 60s are better