Well said. It’s very difficult to get your head around these constant changes of the body, it’s like each part of the process we have to stop, accept and move on till the next one. Where I’m at now is certainly the most intense so far, I’m 57 and this moment for me feels transitional and reading your piece came at the right moment so thank you for writing this. As women I think we have a responsibility to not hate ourselves for how we change, as society would like us to, but to understand how we can best carry this into the world in a way that younger people can see it is actually not terrible getting older but its a gateway to being privy to wisdom and true joy if you let yourself get to that point.
I know what you’re talking about. When I got sick I was very overweight. I had stopped taking care of my face and didn’t wear makeup. I didn’t care about how I looked because I was preparing to die. When I didn’t die after 3 codes I started caring again. I was also losing weight very rapidly. Now, I’m thin and I haven’t died yet!
I actually got better even though I’m still very sick. How you feel makes such a difference in your life.
Thank you for helping me understand the grief I have felt since turning 60 and coming to terms with the inevitability of decay. There is no turning back the clock. Radical acceptance, appreciation, and (dare I say it) Love (with a capital
“L”) is what I am trying on (having given away those size 10 jeans) while still honouring the deep sadness I feel when I look in the mirror. You have given me permission to be authentic. ❤️
I needed this article. Thank you. You’ve articulated this “journey” I’ve been on that I had no name for. I’m 50, half a thyroid and a plethora of injuries ranging from a dairy cow stepping on my foot whilst running from a horny bull, a groin injury from a pole dancing move and doing a cartwheel on a beach.
I’m healing from concussions and burnout and a broken wrist and I’m still yelling at my poor, poor arthritic body going, “Why are you gaining weight? Why aren’t you toned and strong? What the hell is wrong with you and why do we have 6 different sizes of pants!!!”
I’ve been slowing down, sitting on a vibration plate and holding, stroking and appreciating the jiggle of every part and whispering, “Thank you. Thank you for continuing with me in this journey of life even though I sometimes make bad decisions. But hey - remember that time you did the trapeze class? Yeah… you were amazing and I love you.”
P.S. the two amazing humans you birthed aren’t too bad either. 😉
This was one of the most inspiring things I have read in ages (no pun intended!😂) I’m going on 65, and although I’m still trim, I grieve for the firmness of my flesh, the spider veins in my legs, the fact that my thick, curly hair is thinning (although I am blessed that it is still very curly), and THE LINES IN MY FACE: the “marionette lines”, the upper lip lines, the “lines of surprise” that too often show in my forehead. I just very recently deleted from my phone a couple of selfies from six and 3 1/2 years ago, respectively , which I have used as profile photos for social media and whenever else it was necessary to post a photo of myself. I now have just the one that was taken of me on Mother’s Day 2025 – eyes full of love and pride for my son and beautiful daughter-in-law, and a smile that says everything about all the wonderful things in my life. There are also couple of me that were taken while I was kissing my dog and grand dogs. 😂❣️Those are my current portraits. Those are who I am, and I remind myself every day that the love in this aging face is the greatest beauty that I could sport. As for these vein-mapped old legs, they’re still good for a brisk 3 mile walk in the woods with the kids and the dogs. They’ll do nicely. Thank you so very, very much for this wonderful piece of written wisdom.
This is one of the most honest, compassionate pieces I’ve ever read about body change. You name something so many of us carry quietly—the grief. Not the “I wish I loved my curves more” kind of grief, but the real, layered ache of losing a version of ourselves that lived in a different season, under different conditions, in a different body.
What struck me most is how you gave language to what those old jeans (or dresses, or blazers) actually represent. They’re not about fabric or sizes—they’re monuments to ease, identity, invincibility, and the illusion of control. No wonder we hold onto them. No wonder their presence feels so loaded.
I also love how you refuse the false binary between body hatred and forced positivity. The way you describe body neutrality—as simple respect for the body we have now—feels like a deep exhale. Such a needed reminder that our bodies don’t have to be beautiful to be worthy of care, and that we are allowed to feel complicated without failing at some new version of “self-love.”
Your words offer a gentler middle place: where grief is named, shame is loosened, and we’re invited to show up for the body we have today with tenderness instead of pressure.
Thank you for writing something that feels both truthful and liberating. I’ll be carrying this with me for a long while.
This is a beautiful piece. There are many aspects that resonate with me (don’t get me started on cultural messages about a woman’s appearance or the body positivity movement!). However, there is one area that missed for me. Specifically, the grief that I feel about my body is not centered on the changes that have occurred as I have aged and gone through menopause. The grief I am working through is around what never was. I have struggled with being overweight or obese since childhood. There is not a version of my body’s size or shape from another era that I am sad about losing. (While I am tempted to write a bit here on the universality of body functioning changing as we age, I am so burned from years of being told that any issue with my body was my fault because of my weight that I have a automatic reluctance to discuss it.) I never felt the effortlessness, the identity, the invincibility, or control that you describe. I can understand how there would be a profound sense of loss when they go away, but that is because I have been observing the wonder of such things in other people all my life.
Amazing post! My body has aged prematurely due to degenerative chronic illnesses. Not only do I compare my body now to my body before, and I do, but I can compare it to other women both my age and older than me. The whole body positivity movement has been impossible for me. I can't love muscle degeneration because of illness. The concept of neutrality makes so much more sense. You've hit another home run with this post! It's one that I will come back to whenever I find myself in tears because I've accidentally caught a glimpse of the mirror after the shower. Thank you again.
I so appreciate this! It feels like a letting go, grieving, and accepting the newness of this current stage.
Thank you for this. I am learning to respect my grandma body as I turn 70.
Well said. It’s very difficult to get your head around these constant changes of the body, it’s like each part of the process we have to stop, accept and move on till the next one. Where I’m at now is certainly the most intense so far, I’m 57 and this moment for me feels transitional and reading your piece came at the right moment so thank you for writing this. As women I think we have a responsibility to not hate ourselves for how we change, as society would like us to, but to understand how we can best carry this into the world in a way that younger people can see it is actually not terrible getting older but its a gateway to being privy to wisdom and true joy if you let yourself get to that point.
I know what you’re talking about. When I got sick I was very overweight. I had stopped taking care of my face and didn’t wear makeup. I didn’t care about how I looked because I was preparing to die. When I didn’t die after 3 codes I started caring again. I was also losing weight very rapidly. Now, I’m thin and I haven’t died yet!
I actually got better even though I’m still very sick. How you feel makes such a difference in your life.
Thank you for helping me understand the grief I have felt since turning 60 and coming to terms with the inevitability of decay. There is no turning back the clock. Radical acceptance, appreciation, and (dare I say it) Love (with a capital
“L”) is what I am trying on (having given away those size 10 jeans) while still honouring the deep sadness I feel when I look in the mirror. You have given me permission to be authentic. ❤️
I needed this article. Thank you. You’ve articulated this “journey” I’ve been on that I had no name for. I’m 50, half a thyroid and a plethora of injuries ranging from a dairy cow stepping on my foot whilst running from a horny bull, a groin injury from a pole dancing move and doing a cartwheel on a beach.
I’m healing from concussions and burnout and a broken wrist and I’m still yelling at my poor, poor arthritic body going, “Why are you gaining weight? Why aren’t you toned and strong? What the hell is wrong with you and why do we have 6 different sizes of pants!!!”
I’ve been slowing down, sitting on a vibration plate and holding, stroking and appreciating the jiggle of every part and whispering, “Thank you. Thank you for continuing with me in this journey of life even though I sometimes make bad decisions. But hey - remember that time you did the trapeze class? Yeah… you were amazing and I love you.”
P.S. the two amazing humans you birthed aren’t too bad either. 😉
This was one of the most inspiring things I have read in ages (no pun intended!😂) I’m going on 65, and although I’m still trim, I grieve for the firmness of my flesh, the spider veins in my legs, the fact that my thick, curly hair is thinning (although I am blessed that it is still very curly), and THE LINES IN MY FACE: the “marionette lines”, the upper lip lines, the “lines of surprise” that too often show in my forehead. I just very recently deleted from my phone a couple of selfies from six and 3 1/2 years ago, respectively , which I have used as profile photos for social media and whenever else it was necessary to post a photo of myself. I now have just the one that was taken of me on Mother’s Day 2025 – eyes full of love and pride for my son and beautiful daughter-in-law, and a smile that says everything about all the wonderful things in my life. There are also couple of me that were taken while I was kissing my dog and grand dogs. 😂❣️Those are my current portraits. Those are who I am, and I remind myself every day that the love in this aging face is the greatest beauty that I could sport. As for these vein-mapped old legs, they’re still good for a brisk 3 mile walk in the woods with the kids and the dogs. They’ll do nicely. Thank you so very, very much for this wonderful piece of written wisdom.
♥️🌹♥️
Yes. You’ve articulated it. There’s too much water under the bridge. Thankyou!
This is one of the most honest, compassionate pieces I’ve ever read about body change. You name something so many of us carry quietly—the grief. Not the “I wish I loved my curves more” kind of grief, but the real, layered ache of losing a version of ourselves that lived in a different season, under different conditions, in a different body.
What struck me most is how you gave language to what those old jeans (or dresses, or blazers) actually represent. They’re not about fabric or sizes—they’re monuments to ease, identity, invincibility, and the illusion of control. No wonder we hold onto them. No wonder their presence feels so loaded.
I also love how you refuse the false binary between body hatred and forced positivity. The way you describe body neutrality—as simple respect for the body we have now—feels like a deep exhale. Such a needed reminder that our bodies don’t have to be beautiful to be worthy of care, and that we are allowed to feel complicated without failing at some new version of “self-love.”
Your words offer a gentler middle place: where grief is named, shame is loosened, and we’re invited to show up for the body we have today with tenderness instead of pressure.
Thank you for writing something that feels both truthful and liberating. I’ll be carrying this with me for a long while.
So much truth and a wonderful reminder!
SHUT THE FUCKIN UP!!!!! AGAIN!!! DO MALES MAKE SUCH GRIEVING SHIT ABOUT THEIR BODIES???
This is a beautiful piece. There are many aspects that resonate with me (don’t get me started on cultural messages about a woman’s appearance or the body positivity movement!). However, there is one area that missed for me. Specifically, the grief that I feel about my body is not centered on the changes that have occurred as I have aged and gone through menopause. The grief I am working through is around what never was. I have struggled with being overweight or obese since childhood. There is not a version of my body’s size or shape from another era that I am sad about losing. (While I am tempted to write a bit here on the universality of body functioning changing as we age, I am so burned from years of being told that any issue with my body was my fault because of my weight that I have a automatic reluctance to discuss it.) I never felt the effortlessness, the identity, the invincibility, or control that you describe. I can understand how there would be a profound sense of loss when they go away, but that is because I have been observing the wonder of such things in other people all my life.
Amazing post! My body has aged prematurely due to degenerative chronic illnesses. Not only do I compare my body now to my body before, and I do, but I can compare it to other women both my age and older than me. The whole body positivity movement has been impossible for me. I can't love muscle degeneration because of illness. The concept of neutrality makes so much more sense. You've hit another home run with this post! It's one that I will come back to whenever I find myself in tears because I've accidentally caught a glimpse of the mirror after the shower. Thank you again.
🙏Thank you for this, something women need to hear, internalize. I will try.
But your body is indeed beautiful. A work of art from Mother Nature
I literally just took a skirt I loved, which I can barely zip up now, off the donate pile. Thank you for this💜