I’m not keen on having my choices restricted. Aging is slowly but surely restricting my options with every passing year and I don’t care for it one bit.
Diminishing Options As I Age
A few years ago I could enjoy an ice cold martini once or twice a week, you know, to take the edge off and smooth out those rough spots. I also enjoyed a good glass of wine with a meal. Or wine without food. I wasn’t fancy about the necessity of food when it came to wine. My chronic acute sinusitis makes drinking impossible. I get physically ill and often develop full blown sinus infections almost immediately upon imbibing in even the tiniest drop of alcohol. No drinking, no more taking the edge off. Rubbing my pugs belly is my alternate. It’s okay but it doesn’t have the same panache. Also, I can’t order up a pug for petting at a posh restaurant or say, “I’ll have a round of pugs for everyone!” (loud applause and screams of joy.)
I used to run and although I didn’t enjoy it as much as a good martini it made me feel good about myself and helped keep the pudge belly monster at bay. Now my back and neck rail against the jarring compressing effects of running. I’m forced to speed walk. I don’t mind walking but I don’t feel the euphoria I used to get after a run and it has done little to ward off the food baby which seems to have taken up permanent residence snuggled up and sleeping soundly around my waist.
Let’s talk about vaginismus or dyspareunia. It sounds a lot like Christmas for the vagina but I can tell you it most certainly is not. I’ll let you do your own reading up on that here. Needless to say it’s no party and it truly feels like my body is turning against me, ruining every enjoyment I blissfully took for granted when I was young. Oh sure there are “work arounds” …of course, but I dislike the fact that a basic bodily function that is pleasure based is now impossible. Also, gynaecologists seem to poorly trained or ignorant about this issue. The funniest representation about vaginismus was in an episode Lady Dynamite called Vaginismus A Christmas Miracle.
What about other pleasures?
Like oh I don’t know…eating? Yep…that’s changing too.
No more dairy products, especially cheese which in my younger days, like Wallace I essentially survived on. I can still do limited amounts of goat’s cheese. Hallelujah!
Bread which was previously one of my most delicious and highly coveted sins now makes my stomach blow up like the Pillsbury Dough Boy. The main exception being that when someone pokes my belly I’m not giggling, I’m clenched over in pain wailing, “Why me Dough Boy? Why me?”
The choices in my closet have been reduced. Suddenly none of my jeans fit properly. Where did this “muffin monster” come from? It is hard to find a pair of pants in my closet that don’t make me look like a plumber and not in that good hot porno, “I’m a plumber and I’ve come to clean your pipes” way. Nope. I’m talking the low riders that allow the muffin monster free reign on the top while exposing a smiling butt crack from behind. Now my only choice is high waisted jeans AKA girdle/Mom jeans. Sure they help smooth out the front and sides but now my butt looks two feet tall. Maybe tall butts are in.
What about my love of high heel shoes?
As we age the cushioning on the balls of our feet heads for the hills just like the collagen in our faces. The hills are nice and plump but our faces and feet are flat and hollow. (The hills are code for food baby.) Now anything with a heel height above 2.5″ worn for more than 15-30 minutes is threatening to induce a migraine and let out the Bitch Queen of Pain which makes Cersei look like a well behaved Girl Guide by comparison.
How about getting outside for a nice walk? I used to be able to walk the pug any time, even in the middle of winter if I chose. Now, I’m relegated to walking outdoors only when it is above ten celsius. I suffer from rosacea and it has worsened with age. My skin can’t cope with low temperatures anymore. In cold and wind large red welts appear and take days to leave. People in my neighbourhood do a double take as I pass them by wearing a bank robber’s balaclava to walk the pug.
There will be no photos of that appearing on the blog or Instagram anytime soon. #toorealfortheblog
The older I get the less my face likes makeup and the more it needs makeup. What a cruel joke! I fondly remember when I could go out and buy any makeup from the Drugstore and make it work. Those days are over.
I’m no longer able to wear mascara (partially due to my rosacea) which is why I get eyelash extensions. The extensions help but my blond lashes make it look like I have no lower lashes.
Brown spots and veins are turning my face into a coffee stained roadmap. All the coverup I’ve tried either looks caked, flakes off, or lasts fifteen minutes before it magically disappears.
My lips are the one area that I like to wear makeup regularly. Even they are rebelling by constantly peeling despite being addictively slathered in lip balm daily.
I’ve always had heavy eyelids. This isn’t new. The fact that eye make up only lasts about an hour is new. I’ve just ordered a new eyelid prep cream to hopefully deal with this issue. We’ll see…to be honest I don’t have much faith in makeup as 90% of it doesn’t work for me and my aging super sensitive skin.
Sense of Humour
One thing that hasn’t diminished as I age is my sense of humour. If anything it has grown and become my most valued coping mechanism. A person’s experience in life is directly related to how they choose to view their situation. You cannot control everything that happens to you, you can only control your response. Laughing is one of the best responses I know.
That is my list of diminishing options as I age.
Do you have any? How do you cope with the changes in your life due to aging?
I feel the necessity to state the reasons why I wrote this post as so many people have misconstrued the meaning behind it. It was not meant as pity party. I was not looking for sympathy. It was written in the spirit of sharing facts with others so that they might not think they are alone or feel guilty that these same issues or others were their fault. Thanks for understanding.
Linking up with Fancy Friday.