vignette
Something that perhaps gives an insight into my fears:
I mentioned to someone that it's nice to get so much attention at my age, then expanded:
Once upon a time, I had a public health researcher come to the apartment complex. I agreed to answer a few questions, and then agreed to answer the long form, which was interesting in that she asked the questions, but I would answer on the laptop whose screen she couldn't see.
She was dressed all businessy and mousy, and had short brown hair and a middle aged demeanor. (This was probably most of 20 years ago; I was but an egg.)
And multiple captive bead rings in her ears and a flaming heart tattoo on her neck.
I asked her about them - that her dress and manner were a surprising combination with her neck tattoo.
"when I turned 40 I turned invisible," she said, "and I didn't like it."
Apparently swapping a leather jacket for her more business casual meant the tattoo helped her be a little safer when working in bad areas, but more to the point, she said people actually noticed her again.
I think this conversation has stayed in the back of my mind for the past decade.
Once upon a time, somewhat more recently than that conversation above, someone I respected was telling me about things I do in conversation, at parties, that are annoying or less social, and offered that people tolerate it because I'm decorative. That morphed into thinking people only want to be around me because I'm decorative; this wasn't helped by someone else I respected occasionally trying to make me feel better about myself by telling me how sexy he found me. He did this once on a day I lost a job.*
Several different people I know lost a lot of weight then struggled with the mix of emotions that come with sudden attention from the same people they'd known all along.
It all means that I feel deep down that I have an expiration date. Better wear the sunscreen. Better fear getting old and a changing body. I'm also fairly cheap and bad at routines, so I don't do much more than sunscreen and fear.
Right now I'm still sick. Pollen kicked my ass all week and weekend; if I get enough sudafed and antihistamine into me I'm okay. But morrnings and trying to be horizontal don't work too well.
*edit: he and I talked about this some years later, and he now takes pains to compliment things he likes about me that are not the visual.
This entry was originally posted at http://vvalkyri.dreamwidth.org/1620294.html. You can add to the
comments there using OpenID, or here is okay too.
I mentioned to someone that it's nice to get so much attention at my age, then expanded:
Once upon a time, I had a public health researcher come to the apartment complex. I agreed to answer a few questions, and then agreed to answer the long form, which was interesting in that she asked the questions, but I would answer on the laptop whose screen she couldn't see.
She was dressed all businessy and mousy, and had short brown hair and a middle aged demeanor. (This was probably most of 20 years ago; I was but an egg.)
And multiple captive bead rings in her ears and a flaming heart tattoo on her neck.
I asked her about them - that her dress and manner were a surprising combination with her neck tattoo.
"when I turned 40 I turned invisible," she said, "and I didn't like it."
Apparently swapping a leather jacket for her more business casual meant the tattoo helped her be a little safer when working in bad areas, but more to the point, she said people actually noticed her again.
I think this conversation has stayed in the back of my mind for the past decade.
Once upon a time, somewhat more recently than that conversation above, someone I respected was telling me about things I do in conversation, at parties, that are annoying or less social, and offered that people tolerate it because I'm decorative. That morphed into thinking people only want to be around me because I'm decorative; this wasn't helped by someone else I respected occasionally trying to make me feel better about myself by telling me how sexy he found me. He did this once on a day I lost a job.*
Several different people I know lost a lot of weight then struggled with the mix of emotions that come with sudden attention from the same people they'd known all along.
It all means that I feel deep down that I have an expiration date. Better wear the sunscreen. Better fear getting old and a changing body. I'm also fairly cheap and bad at routines, so I don't do much more than sunscreen and fear.
Right now I'm still sick. Pollen kicked my ass all week and weekend; if I get enough sudafed and antihistamine into me I'm okay. But morrnings and trying to be horizontal don't work too well.
*edit: he and I talked about this some years later, and he now takes pains to compliment things he likes about me that are not the visual.
This entry was originally posted at http://vvalkyri.dreamwidth.org/1620294.html. You can add to the
comments there using OpenID, or here is okay too.