As Igor from The Red Elvises, “Your favorite band!” might say (use a loud voice and a Russian accent), “Your favorite music source!” Spotify, Spotify, Spotify. I can’t say it enough. Spotify, Spotify …download the app right here, right now, the free version. Full disclosure – I have no ties to Spotify except that I pay their monthly fee. I enjoy it daily. I bet you’ll love it like I do.
Now, how’s this for a confidence boost? …
It’s so nice being a midlife woman. There is a calm to it. It’s easy to identify with the trite statement, “It just is.”
I am finding that every now and then a little irony threads through my life, and I can see it here again.
This irony from awhile ago: I always chuckled that for some of us mothers, as we perhaps voluntarily sacrificed an income to be more hands-on in raising our children, we had time. Time. In a mother sort of way, which means two minutes here and five minutes there. But we always had the possibility of a little bit of time, with the freedom to gather the little ones and go do something fun – sometimes just anything to get out of the house – that carrot dangling in front of us.
And then while we were busy sacrificing our income, and finding ourselves with some very real mobile possibilities within our day, we, at the same point, didn’t have the extra money for shopping. We had time, but no money. Sigh.
And now I find myself having confidence in my body.
I’m finally coming to at least some peace with the fact that we women are judged on our looks. I can also finally see that I shouldn’t be so critical of myself. Where did all of my constant self criticism come from?
I find that we women are judged by our looks absolutely constantly, either obviously or subliminally, in our culture. I also find that men are judged by their income, either obviously or subliminally, in our culture. I don’t think either one is healthy, and the pressure is on just the same: 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. I think that we each just get to come to terms with this reality at some point in our lives. This point seems to be, for me, around now, fifty something.
But wouldn’t it have been better timing to have been confident when there was a little more to be confident about, when it was a twenty something body, or even a forty something body?
It’s the irony again. I wonder what the next irony will be.
Somebody Else's Wisdom 