What I Know
It’s hard to know where to start when my only qualifications to speak on middle age and its implications, are actually being middle-aged. Working up my demographics to speak to the topics I touch on, one hopes to reach the top side of the age demographic as well as those who are still relatively young, peeking over the precipice of this slippery slope – and embarking on their last third of life, in a mostly reasonable and gracious manner.
My real qualifications come down to owning a hair salon business for ten years, a 28-year marriage that ended in divorce, raising four kids to adulthood, being a single grandmother to three, dating, having knowledge of the latest rejuvenation therapies and a Bachelor’s degree in English from ASU as the oldest student in every class. I don’t have a PhD in Psychology or Sociology, although I am a hairdresser and I’ve had a lot of therapy – thus giving me the uncanny ability to see how screwed up my family and friends are but not always the ability to see my own stuff. 😉
What I know is this: If you’ve reached this last third of your life and you carry a few hidden scars, you don’t have to have letters after your name or a piece of paper to validate what you know. Our authenticity and vulnerabilities are what allow us to identify and recognize with self-compassion – our own infallibilities to become our truest mirror. It is in our imperfections where we create the most perfect version of ourselves. It is my greatest wish that when we’ve all arrived here, even if we’re fighting gravity, you see what I see: A strong, courageous, beautiful and wiser person staring back at you. If you are strong enough to have survived to this point, you have a PhD in life. We do not get through this world unscathed. Most of us, are experts at surviving what life flings at us, even when it gobsmacks us right in the face. As we all know, the human condition can be made out of some pretty harrowing and or even funny stuff – if we’re able to see the irony. I am finally living my best, most authentic life and the fact is, like “Alexander” I’ve had “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days,” like we all do – but then, after I am finally able to pick myself up off the floor, I’ve learned to be thankful for the lessons and the growth that happens as a result. Today, I think like a full-moon-crystal-bearing-what’s-your-sign-only-good-vibes-hippie-chick most of the time, so, if I say I’m praying or sending you energy, you can count on that being legit. I think I’m doing alright with this aging thing. I don’t have to like the number but I’m learning to be okay with the wrinkles between my boobs (because Botox can only do so much). Beauty Tip Hack: Turtlenecks are the easy (albeit, unsexy), solution to boob wrinkles.
As this space progresses, I need your help. First, I invite you to follow me by joining here, commenting and to please, follow and comment on Instagram and Facebook as I share my (S)hero’s journey and embark on this new one. Second, please share with your friends, invite them to engage. So, grab some coffee and join the discussion. Together we will learn to honor our wrinkles, commiserate, cry, hold each other up and laugh until we accidently fart – then, we’ll laugh some more because we did. I know, I know: TMI.
-Tamara
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