|
WORDS for WOMEN
By
Anne Lamott
Age
has given me what I was looking for my entire life. It gave me ME. It
provided the time and experience and failures and triumphs and friends
who helped me step into the shape that had been waiting for me all my
life. I fit into me now. I finally have an organic life now, not the one
people imagined for me, or tried to get me to have, or the life someone
else might celebrate as a successful one. I have the life I dreamed of.
I have become the woman I hardly dared imagine I could be. There are
parts I didn't love until a few years ago, I had no idea that you could
get cellulite on your stomach! But I not only get along with me most of
the time now, I am militantly and maternally on my own side.
Left
to my own devices, would I trade this for firm thighs, fewer wrinkles, a
better memory? Some days, yes. That's why it's such a blessing I'm not
left to my own devices. Because the truth is, I have amazing friends and
a deep faith in God, both of whom I can turn to. I've learned to pay
attention to life and to listen. I'd give up all this for a flatter
belly? Are you kidding?
I
still have terrible moments when I despair about my body. But they are
just moments I used to have years ago when I believed I would be more
beautiful if I jiggled less; if all the parts of my body stopped moving
when I did. But I believe two things now that I didn't at 30. When we
get to Heaven, we will discover that the appearance of our butts and
skin was 3,127th on the list of
what
mattered on this earth. I am not going to live forever, and this truth
has set me free.
Eleven
years ago, when my friend Pam was dying of cancer at the age of 37, we
went shopping. She was in a wheelchair, wearing a wig and had just three
weeks to live. I tried on a short dress and came out to model it for
her. I asked if she thought it made me look big in the thighs, and so
kindly she said, "Anne, you just don't have that kind of
time." I live by those words.
I am
thrilled for every gray hair and achy muscle, because of all the friends
who died too young of heart attacks and cancer and car accidents. And
much of the stuff I used to worry about has subsided. What other people
think of me and of how I live my life I give these things the big shrug.
It's a huge relief.
I
became more successful in my 40s, but this pales compared to the other
gifts of this decade how kind to myself I have become, what a wonderful,
tender friend I am to myself. I get myself tubs of hot soapy water at
the end of a long day. I run interference for myself when I am working,
and I live by the truth that "No" is a complete sentence.
I
insist on the right to swim in warm water at every opportunity, no
matter how young and gorgeous the other people on the beach are. I don't
think that if I live to be 80, I'll wish I'd spent more hours in the gym
or kept my house cleaner. I think I'm going to wish I had swum more
unashamedly, made more mistakes, acted sillier, laughed more. On the day
I die, I want to have had dessert.
I
have survived so much loss, as all of us have by this time: my
parents, dear friends, beloved pets. If you haven't already, you will
lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken
.. and the bad news is that you will never completely get over that
loss. But the good news is that they will live forever, in your broken
heart that never heals. It's like having a broken leg that never heals
perfectly, that still hurts when the weather is cold but you learn to
dance with the limp. You dance to the music of old friendships and old
loves.
I
danced alone for a number of years and came to believe that I might not
ever have a passionate, romantic relationship again and might end
up alone. I'd been terrified of that all my life. But now I know I'd
rather never be a couple again than to be in a toxic relationship.
Younger
women worry that their memories will begin to go and you know what? They
will. Menopause has not increased my focus and retention as much as I'd
hoped. But a lot is better off missed and forgotten.
I
know that many women fear getting older. I wish I could gather all
younger women together and give them my word of honor that every one of
my friends loves being older, loves being in her 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s. My
Aunt Gertrude is 85 and she leaves us all in the dust when we hike.
Sure, my feet hurt some mornings and my body is less forgiving than it
used to be but I love my life more, and I love me more.
It's
like that old saying: It's not that I think less of myself, but that I
think of myself less often. And that feels like heaven to me.
Make
the most of this day! |
|