Since the post, I’ve realized there’s a few more body parts that have changed my point of view on what I thought years ago versus what I know now. I’ve addressed them below in Part Two of Unpolishedly Aging: What I Thought When Was Younger vs. What I Know Now That I’m Older.
When I was younger I thought having thick, long flowing hair was easy. It was easy because it just grew from my scalp without any effort on my part. Strands of golden locks everywhere, everyday; longer and stronger. A mane of healthy hair galore.
If ever the theory had been posed, “Maybe she’s born with it or maybe it’s Maybelline” [if in fact Maybelline had had anything to do with healthy hair in lieu of a line of makeup], the answer was clear; it wasn’t Maybelline at all. She [me] was born with it!
Now that I’m older I know even if Maybelline had come out with a line of hair products, it wouldn’t help! Now that I’m older, I know hair suffers big time. If I had to qualify when the demise begun, I’d say with confidence it started quickly after childbirth when clumps of hair would clog the drain. As the years have passed, the slope has gotten more slippery. Be careful to watch your step when getting into the shower not just because your footing isn’t as steady as it was when you were younger, but also because you don’t want to suddenly be alarmed by the fistful of hair in the drain and mistake it for a potentially dead insect or the like. Now that I’m older, I wonder if the beauty tip about mature women needing to cut their hair shorter in order to stay on trend is more of a mandate than a subtle suggestion? When I was younger I also used to think thinning hair was an issue reserved just for the fellas. Now that I’m older I know they’ve decided to share this aging curse with the ladies too. Thanks boys. Thanks a whole lot.
When I was younger I thought the only pill I had to pop on a daily basis was a Flintstones vitamin. When I was younger I actually used to enjoy the taste of the tartness when I chewed a sour Fred or Wilma not minding at all the piercing tinge around the back of one of my ears as I ate it first thing in the morning with a glass of orange juice.
Now that I’m older I know I’m not really sure if a Flintstones vitamin was even a vitamin at all or just a marketing stunt to get the younger version of ourselves prepped for the routine of what would come as an adult relative to the daily dosages of more than just a pretend boost of essential nutrients!Imagine how simple things would be if all you took on a daily basis was a Sour Patch Kid placebo of sugar? When I was younger I used to turn the car around after I left the house because I couldn’t remember if I had left the flat iron on for my [now thinning] hair. Today, I turn the car around because while I still can’t remember the status of the iron, I also turn around because I can’t always remember if I took my Losartan to manage my high blood pressure. Now that I’m older, I carry a ziplock bag of Advil, Tylenol, Fish Oil, Ginko Biloba, Emergen-C and Xanax. The chances of needing to take one of the bunch on somewhat of a regular basis are way greater than the likelihood that the bottle of Nature’s Bounty gummies with Biotin to increase the health of my hair, skin and nails will actually work with any signs of visible improvement.
When I was a kid, I used to think crépe was a word exclusively used as a prefix to the word paper. While crépe paper was typically associated with happy, festive occasions to decorate a room per se, it was by definition crinkly, thin and delicate. When I was a kid I used to think crépe paper was fun to play with despite its flimsiness. Now that I’m older…. Jesus Christ, now that I’m older I’m well aware the word paper no longer comes to mind when I think of crépe. Now that I’m older crépe has an entirely new association even though its describing adjectives of crinkly, thin, delicate and flimsy remain unpolishedly intact. Now that I’m older I know crépe refers solely to my crinkly, crépey skin!
When I was much, much younger I thought being hormonal was something you might experience every once in a while if at all. When I was much, much younger I thought being hormonal was something you might experience every once in a while if at all and maybe it would rear its unpolished head only a few days before a menstrual cycle; which was also something you could track with some degree of regularity. Typical hormonal behaviors of a much, much younger girl were just that, typical. When I was much, much younger, I thought typical hormonal behaviors included but were not limited to that of a low grade headache or stomachache, mild crankiness, a bit of bloating and some general overall lethargy. NOW THAT I’M OLDER….. Holy shit! Now that I’m older I know the word mild doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. Now that I’m older, I’m an even more intensely unpolished psychotic lunatic form of my already intensely unpolished psychotic self and not just when the calendar says I’m probably ovulating but kinda, sorta, a lot of the time!
And wait, do I even ovulate anymore? Now that I’m older, when I actually do get my period, I know not to blink because I might miss it. Now that I’m older it seems describing my hormonal mood much the same as how some would describe an unpolished rage mode for days or even weeks before the said period arrives is accurate only to then need to put my readers on to see the speck or two of the shedded lining from my uterus barely bleeding. When you compare the “P” in PMS to the actual “MS” it seems the punishment doesn’t really fit the crime! I find it incredibly odd now that I’m older, the pee in my pants (see Part One of this blog) is a heavier flow than good old Aunt Flow [emphasis on the word old]. Maybe now that I’m older, it’s time to know it might not be a bad idea to add some pills to my ziplock bag that would help ease the erratic craziness of an unpolishedly aging, hormonal woman!
When I was younger I used to think being super skinny was everything. Now that I’m older, I know being very, very thin isn’t everything but admittedly it is something. Don’t we want to look good in clothes? More notably, don’t we want to look good out of our clothes? Now that I’m older I know being painfully thin or more specifically staying that way gets harder and harder. But here’s the complicated catch: When you’re older, you have to work ten times harder to maintain whatever version of skinny you desire and then when or if you get there, you’re faced with yet another problem. Now that I’m older, I’ve realized being the kind of skinny I’ve always liked doesn’t make me look younger; it makes me look older. My face gets depleted and gaunt and apparently weight loss enhances and accelerates aging. Gasp! What kind of sick joke is the Universe playing?
When I was younger I thought the song Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes was just a fun, silly song I sang at camp during morning assembly to get the blood flowing to all of my youthful body parts. Now that I’m older, I know the song, not unlike Flintstones vitamins, was just a song to ready me for the order in which my body will one day start to decline.
Head- Now that I’m older I know I’m a mental head case!
Shoulders- Now that I’m older I ask you this question: Is there ever a moment you’d turn down a shoulder rub because you didn’t need it? I rest my case.
Knees- Now that I’m older, I realize I had no idea how fucking ugly knees are. If only we could crépe-erase knees entirely.
Toes- Now that I’m older, toes are ugly too. And toes hurt after being on your feet all day. In the case of toes, more doesn’t mean anything. We have ten toes and they all hurt!
If the song stopped there my unpolished point would be made, but the song does continue. Just in case you needed more body parts to fray, there’s the eyes and ears and mouth and nose to contend with!
Ears- Now that I’m older, I fully understand why the volume on my grandparents television was jacked up all the way when I was younger. Huh? What? I can’t hear you. Can you repeat that? Louder please!
Mouth & Nose- Now that I’m older, the mouth is the only body part of this song I don’t take issue with. Smile lines around the mouth make me smile wider. As I get older, I need to laugh a lot and smiling is a byproduct of that. Smile lines make me happy. Now that I’m older, I hope I won’t forget my opinion on this front when I get even older but I will say, I can’t smell a damn thing. My keen sense of scent has been desensitized over the years. My nose just doesn’t work anymore! Does it smell unpolished in here?