What me knees taught me about growing old gracefully!
I hate my knees. I used to have great knees. They were the knee of youth and hope.
They were knees that loved shorts and skirts and demanded to be seen.
They were emotional knees. Love made them buckle, and fear made them quake.
Well, OK, the fear thing still happens.
I noticed the change quite by chance. I was hanging out in a down dog, minding my own business when suddenly, there they were, the knees of a middle-aged woman.
How the hell did that happen when I am still only 35?
Well, inside I am anyway!
That’s the thing, I’m older than I ever intended to be!
That is actually a line from the musical Chicago, my favourite musical ever, just in case you wanted to know.
To me, it doesn’t mean I thought I would die young, it means I thought I would always be young, I would never actually ‘be old’. Does that make sense to you?
I have always hated the sentence ‘growing old gracefully’ as I think people take it to mean accepting defeat, and not remaining vibrant or relevant or worse still, visible. I thought I would just avoid middle-age. I didn’t have a hard and fast plan on how to do that, as I thought I had plenty of time to figure one out.
Middle-age is funny like that though, it springs out at you from nowhere.
I guess I had seen a few warning signs, a grey hair here and there, but I had delegated all responsibility of that to my wonderful hairdresser Aubrey. She was the protector of my self-delusion, and we both knew it.
My body also seemed desperate to change shape, no matter how hard to I tried to resist. This was also a sign that I refused to accept. I figured I could just diet and exercise more (and more and more and more!).
I had a few more aches and pains (probably from all that exercise), but those could be ignored through gritted teeth and willpower, but the knees, well they wouldn’t be silenced.
‘You are a middle-aged women Eloise’ they shouted at the tops of their voices.
I stuck my fingers in my ears and sung, la, la, la, for as long as I could, but they sang louder than me.
However, I now stand here before you and accept that I am a middle-aged woman, so I have decided to re-brand the term ‘growing old gracefully,’ even if it’s just to myself.
Gracefully means elegantly or beautifully, so why should it be viewed as a negative term, but it is, just ask ‘Google’. ‘Old’ on the other hand…well that is never going to sound good to me. The dictionary tells me it means, tired, dull and faded, so how can you become tired, dull and faded elegantly? You can’t!
Did you know there is such a thing as a knee lift?
Me neither! Having surgery is not what I mean by this re-branding plan. I just want to keep the number racking up, but not be ‘old and faded’. The ageing part may be inevitable, but growing old is optional.
One of the first things I am going to investigate about myself and my feelings around ‘growing old gracefully’, is my hair colour.
Does grey have to be old or dull, or it can be shimmery and silvery?
I love the idea of having glitter dust, unicorn hair, but can I have that look and still feel, dare I say it, sexy or will I feel old and frumpy?
Next on the, ‘sort your shit out Eloise’ list is diet and exercise.
They are a huge part of my life, they always will be, as I believe they should be a part of everyones.
I hear myself talking a lot about bone density to all my midlife friends. None of us wants to be ‘that woman’ who falls and breaks her hip.
Body image is the part of that particular story that can be either your friend or foe. I was a professional dancer, so needed to stop comparing my 53-year-old body to my 20-year-old body. Sounds like a no brainer but as I always love to say,
‘the obvious is only obvious once it’s obvious!’.
I would stand in the gym and look at all the 20-30 years olds beating myself up for not looking like them or having the same strength that they had.
Seriously, Eloise, you are smarter than that!
So what have my knees taught me about growing old gracefully?
They have let me see that I am ageing, but they have also made me realise that I have a choice in how I do it.
I choose to be a vibrant, visible, happy and healthy unicorn!
Who knew a pair of knees could be so wise?
