The Things Old Ladies Are Teaching Me

About a decade ago, I was at a church event and a woman I really admire was speaking. She was sharing about the importance of intergenerational friendships, and how while friends who are peers are important, friends who span other decades are essential. 

The analogy she used was a beautiful one - that even the best of friends who were running alongside us were bound to butt up against the same issues. That it would be tricky to love and support one another freely when we were in the same stage, navigating similar questions, and inevitably different decisions for our families, and our lives. In contrast, she pointed out that friends of another generation could be in the stands, cheering us on, unbothered by the race they had run years or decades before, when they were in our position. In therapist terms - they would be less likely to project their own values and experiences on us.

It felt like a wise thing; to have friends in another generation. So I nodded, mentioned it to a few of my peers, and then moved on. 

But recently, I’ve been thinking back to that speaker. I’ve been noodling the importance of her words because, while I don’t have best friends in another generation, I have learned a lot from women who belong to different decades. 

A couple years ago, I joined a gym. I joined because I was drowning in babies and lack of consistent childcare. But along with the time and space to workout and shower came a locker room full of old ladies. I live in Sonoma County - it’s an area of California with a relatively high population of retirees, and our gym is FULL OF THEM. And, I love it. 

These women wake up at 5 to book their favorite water aerobics class before it fills up, they gossip like crazy while waiting for showers, and maybe most importantly for me - they walk around naked in the locker room, unashamed of their bodies. 

These women have saggy boobs, and skin that shows evidence of being tanned over and over each year. They have moles and random hairs, and cellulite, and flabby arms. And, they are completely unapologetic about walking around completely naked. 

For context, I grew up in Orange County, CA. If you’re unfamiliar with the area, it’s where the Real Housewives started, where the “OC” and “Laguna Beach” were based (am I aging myself?), and where a lot of really beautiful people tend to congregate. It’s also a place where generally, you aren’t actually allowed to age. It’s a place where, inevitably, there’s a cosmetic solution for any “issue” your body might face. 

And while I’m not actually opposed to cosmetic maintenance, it’s taken time at this gym, seeing these beautiful women, full of life, plans, and enthusiasm for the years they have left, for me to realize that their bodies are just bodies… and that maybe appearances are worth less than I thought? Maybe time is better spent building a life you love in your 50s, 60s, and 70s, than fretting about what shape gravity is pulling you? Because I see them, and I want to be like them: I want to be full of energy, friendship, and stories when I’m their age. And I hope that despite inevitable flaws, that I’m confidently walking around the gym naked. 

I’ve also been learning about aging in another venue I love - podcasts. I’ve been listening to Wise Than Me for a few years now. If you’re unfamiliar, Julia Lousie-Dryfus (Elaine from Sienfield) interviews women 65-90 about their lives. They are names you’ve heard of, but women who we don’t generally hear from, including Julie Andrews, Vera Wang, Ina Garten, Anne Lamont. 

Each of their lives and careers are completely different, but they repeat a lot of the same refrains - there are wonderful and hard things about every stage of life, they wouldn’t change the hard lessons they learned along the way, and most noticeably for me: they are still building lives they feel excited about… they’re seeking new hobbies, skills, and causes that matter to them. They are spending their time intentionally, and with great enthusiasm. They’re reflecting on what they’ve done well, apologizing for areas they’ve failed, and continuing to strengthen their bodies because they need them to function. 

Our culture doesn’t tend to put older women on a pedestal, and so this podcast feels fresh and different - unlike the podcast networks I tend to listen to, where the same people are interviewing one another on repeat. And I’ve walked away from each of my “old lady podcasts” (as my husband, lovingly calls them), thinking about something differently, or reflecting on their tone and cadence, which feels so much more calm, stable, and reflective than people of my own generation, myself included. 

Importantly for me, in this stage of life, these women are reminding me in various ways and words, that while I’ll be a mom for the rest of my life, I also am in the depths of a specific season now, and that it won’t always feel the way it does. Inevitably, I won’t have the same responsibility, purpose, or relentless workload in 20, 30, and 40 years. And while I might look back on these years fondly, there are many beautiful seasons ahead of me. 

So maybe that speaker was correct a few years ago… maybe these lessons that I’m just learning now would have been accessible to me earlier with a different community. But I’m so thankful for the voices and physical bodies that are teaching me new lessons, today.

Question:

My prompt for you this week is less of a skill or a prompt, and more of a challenge: who is an older woman in your life - in your physical life, or in your mental space, who you are learning from? And what are you learning from the way they live?

P.S. This little corner of the internet is growing slowly, but surely. If you think a friend would love this message, or my weekly emails, please recommend my substack, or pass the link along: https://substack.com/@kyliedhempy?utm_source=user-menu