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Shut Up, Granny
Ageism from a “woke” generation who maybe aren’t as woke as they think
We’re reminded that we’re dying slowly. Daily. We slather expensive creams on our faces that sting and burn. Strangers probe us with needles and lasers. We cut and fill and give ourselves over to science in hopes that it will rewind the clock, that somehow we’ll crawl back to the crib instead of an open grave. We download apps that draw lines on our faces and furrow our brows, and we laugh and share it with our friends, our young friends, because, my god, this is who we’ll be. And then we circulate articles about how this generation isn’t “aging well,” while this other generation seems to have swathed themselves in time travel, and why not brag that we still get carded at 30?
In an Instagram reel, a guy overlays his photograph over one of the cast of Cheers. Look at how old they look at thirty, he smirks. On one side of his mouth he touts that millennials have achieved the halcyon dream of aging in reverse — while on the other side of his mouth he’s careful to say he welcomes aging.
Well, no you actually don’t.
As a woman who always looked young, I’m slowly becoming reminded that I have fewer years ahead of me than behind. And while I survived the diet culture of the 80s and 90s, the ways in which women picked one another…
