I don’t know about you, but when I look in the mirror I see the same face that I saw ten, twenty, even thirty years ago. Maybe that’s one advantage of compromised eyesight: it puts a lovely, gauze-like film over whatever you’re looking at. The effect is somewhat poetic and dramatic, though subtle: an image awash in just a bit of haze, enough to make it look dreamy and quite lovely.
And then, there’s how I actually FEEL. My emotions can easily make me regress to the behavior of a teenager, complete with all the angst, self-doubt and confusion I once owned. So, of course that helps me to feel much younger than I truly am.
Crying at inappropriate times helps, too. And so does sleeping late on the weekends.
Of course, there’s always that stray pimple (or two) that erupts from time to time on my chin/nose/forehead. That’s truly a blast from the past – I thought that was all over once you passed puberty?
But then, certain powerful forces shock me back to my so-called senses and make me realize how old I really am. What forces, you ask?
Okay…I’ll tell you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Fluorescent Lighting: Powerful and blinding, it’ll deepen every wrinkle, exaggerate any crease, point out any microscopic flaw and suck all the remaining pigment from your skin; putting you smack in the zombie-lookalike category.
Magnifying Mirrors: Talk about confronting the truth – plus one hundred. I swear, these things are more powerful than x-rays at getting to the real nitty-gritty. I can’t understand why I even own one. I rarely take it out anymore, though, since the last time I did I got depressed and hid out in the house for two days. Face it; looking into a mirror is like asking a good friend for an honest answer to the question, “Do these jeggings make me look fat?” They don’t lie, and convey truths you may not wish to see or hear.
Standing Next to a Younger Woman: I’m pretty tall; five foot nine (okay, if you have to know the truth, I’ve started descending into the shrinking territory, so at last measurement I was five foot eight – and a HALF). Anyhow, I usually don’t notice I’m tall – until I stand next to a short(er) person. Then, I feel tall. Same with age. I don’t notice I’m old(er) until I stand next to a younger person. Moral of the story? Be a loner and don’t stand next to anybody.
Being Out in Public: The fact is that the more you are out, the more people you will have contact with. And doesn’t it seem like most people you see are younger than you? Well, unless you’re wearing a burka or a paper bag over your face, someone else will see THE TRUTH. And that someone else – someone younger – will inevitably see you as who you really are and call you…M’aam. (Unless that person is much older than you…then they’ll more likely call you something endearing, like “honey,” “dear,” or “young lady.”)
You can call me mean. You can call me stupid. You can even call me ugly. (Not really).
But DON’T call me Ma’am.
That’s even worse than the magnifying mirror.
Melanie @ Frugal Kiwi says
It is clear from your reaction you are no Southerner. In the South, people start calling you ma’am well before gray hair and wrinkles appear. It is the polite way to address any grown (or even semi-grown) woman. Channel your favorite character from Steel Magnolias and smile.
SherylK says
No, I am certainly not a Southerner, you’re right about that! And if I were, I guess there’d be no need for this rant 🙂 I didn’t realize that “Ma’am” was so widely used in the South, Okay, I feel (a little) better now…
Heather L says
Oh, I so know what you’re talking about. Hotel mirrors are the worst.
SherylK says
Yes, those evil hotel mirrors. But I can’t help wonder if that’s the fault of the (evil) lighting.
Brette says
I hear ya. In Europe they call you madame which is much nicer sounding! What I don’t appreciate is suddenly discovering new wrinkles. Yesterday I had no crow’s feet but today I do. What’s up with that?
My grandmother said it best. My mom was telling her about her best friend getting plastic surgery. My grandmother snorted and said “She should just grow old along with her husband!” Even if you don’t have a husband, I think her wisdom stands – be proud of who you are and where you are in life!
SherylK says
YOu’re so right…madame does sound a much nicer sound to it.
Living Large says
LOL. I live in the south, so that’s pretty typical. When you talk about mirrors, I’m always reminded of the first time my mother realized she was getting old. She said, “I walked by the mirror this morning, looked up and thought, ‘who is that old lady in my house!”
SherylK says
That’s funny, LL. I often don’t recognize the person looking back at me. So true!
Irene S. Levine says
Hmmm…..I think I’ll stay home in the dark! This post sure resonated with me.
Kerry Dexter says
ah, Sheryl, those of us from the south of the US know ma’am sir as terms of respect and normal conversation, nothing to do with age at all. relax and take it that way. or just consider it as you would a well meant phrase from a foreign language!
SherylK says
I will try to take your advice, Kerry…or pretend I live in the South 🙂
Kris @ Attainable Sustainable says
Oh, those mirrors! I don’t own one but why must I always end up in a hotel room equipped with one?
SherylK says
I guess the only thing to do is IGNORE those mirrors and don’t give in to the urge to look.
Roxanne says
Someone in a store called me “lady” the other day. Seriously? Totally agree about the lighting though. I feel like I look OK at home, then I get out in public, and it’s a shock. Holy cow!
SherylK says
Oh yes. lady. I don’t even like how that word sounds, old or not.
MyKidsEatSquid says
I was called “miss” this week and relished it. I guess I’m no Southerner because “ma’am” irks me too.
SherylK says
I’ll take “miss” over “ma’am” any day…it even has a better sound to it, in my opinion.
Rosalba Gordon says
I own a 10X magnifying mirror and use it very often because I need to take out the hairs from my moustache or my nose or my ears… cause younger people can see it even if I don’t. We had to make peace with our age, we have no choice.
SherylK says
As long as you use the magnifying mirror for the hairs – and then put it away immediately – I guess it gives you no time to look at the rest of your face!
Alexandra says
I was fortunate (?) enough to appear “young” for years, so much so that people would address me as “miss” even when I was eight months pregnant. Now that I’m in my 60s, it has happened that I wonder who the person looking at me in the mirror is. This is quite recent. I’m 65 (Hello, Medicare!!!) and would say the change happened two or three years ago, sigh. I “looked young” until the end of my fifties.
SherylK says
If you looked so young all those years, I”ll bet you still look great, Alexandra!
Donna Hull says
What’s worse is when you become invisible. Keep aging and it happens :-).
SherylK says
Ah, yes. Like when you’re waiting for someone to come over to your table at a restaurant, and it seems as if all the waitstaff are busy with the OTHER tables…
Jennifer Margulis says
That’s so funny. I don’t mind when people call me Ma’am. Or Dear. Or Honey. AND I think I look a thousand years old… sigh. Maybe my nonchalance at the appellation is connected to all the gray hair on my head these days (which I’m rather fond of, I think they’re sexy…)
Jane Boursaw says
In some ways, I like the old-school charm of “ma’am.” In other ways, I’m a perpetual teenager.
SherylK says
I’ll take the perpetual teenage choice, Jane.
Jeanine Barone says
I agree with Melanie that ma’am is pretty commonly used in the South (and also in the Midwest) when people in the service industries speak to women of all ages.
SherylK says
Yes, well it is said that the South is very polite and proper…so I suppose ma’am is proof of that!