Ageing. The inevitable truth.

I saw this picture recently. It made me think. A lot. In the end I decided that it is such a beautiful, and poignant depiction of old age. One I had hoped to aspire to …. but now unlikely to achieve.

So what did I see?? I didn’t read the words at first, as I wanted to form my own opinion. Yes… we are permitted to have our own bleddy opinions!!

First of all I saw the physical ravages of time…. but almost immediately after, I saw the love. It brought a lump to my throat the size of a bleddy football. I certainly felt short changed … as I don’t expect to ever feel that bond illustrated so simply. I’m not regretting my ‘efforts’ …. not all of us get the balance of loving right. It has to be a two way thing…. of equal parts… of loving, sharing, respecting, tolerating and all the other stuff that is required for a beautifully balanced relationship.

I watched a programme last night, where a celebrity couple had been married for almost 50 years… their love for each other shone out. I have very good friends who are much the same. I watch it around me everywhere I go ….. I won’t say that any of their lives are perfect… but the strength of their love carries them through all sorts of shite and mayhem, that life chucks about with no thought as to who, or what we are.

Am I jealous? If I’m honest I am. Feel cheated? Nope. I made my choices … they weren’t the right ones …. it’s as fdcking simple as that.

I have been struggling with ageing recently… but this picture made me realise that it not my outward appearance that pisses me off…. I don’t particularly like it… but it’s an inevitability of getting old.

This wasn’t always the case…. having been married to someone who saw a woman ageing as a crime…. and got pushed to one side, and eventually replaced by someone 20 years younger. He made it out to be my fault… and I took a very long time, and a sodding cringeworthy route, trying to prove my sexuality. Ffs. What a waste of time.

I’ve always been able to work with what I have…. I’ve never been tempted to go for the enhancements so readily available. What you see is what you get.

My arse has always been a trial… less peachy and more squashed aubergine. My jowls could give a hungry hamster a run for its money…. and my upper arms are rapidly becoming less batwing and more albatross. The skin has started to stretch like a thin pizza dough … without the elasticity, have age spots and senile warts popping up like some sort of human Jackson Pollock living art piece. Then there’s the fdcking long black wiry hairs appear overnight on my top lip and chin.

Oh the joys, and reality of ageing!

But in actual fact, those things are not what pisses me off. It’s the hidden stuff. The lack of stamina, the creaks and aches… all in the knowledge that I am fecking wearing out.

I can use smoke and mirrors for what is seen, if need be. But there is not an awful lot to be done about the ‘internals’. THAT is my nemesis.

Along with not ever finding that special someone, who accept me, senile warts and all.

To those much younger people who look for the outwardly physical perfection so readily available nowadays…. it’s only by the perceptions of others where that perfection lies.

If you can be happy in your own skin, then that is priceless. I’m there with that. I’ll have to fdcking deal with the other ‘inner’ shite the best way I can.

I’m luckier than most. So many haven’t made it…. some because they didn’t feel worthy of life. I was almost among that head count. I am ecstatic to say I’m still here.

I don’t have the special love shown in this picture …. but it sure as fuck illustrates that age takes no prisoners. It’s going to do its ‘thing’ …, whether you bleddy like it or not.

Beautiful B’stard