I began calling myself old at about sixty-five, but I wanted to claim the title even earlier than that.

My friends in their eighties laugh at the notion that I’m old at sixty-seven. Still, how long can one go on being middle-aged? Middle-aged carries all sorts of responsibilities and burdens – working for a living, saving for retirement, caring for teenagers and parents. Old brings freedom and power.

image:usatoday.com

As an old woman, I’m free from hoping that men will find me sexually attractive. When I was younger  I was on an everlasting honey-hunt. I  dressed and walked and talked to entice the male of the species.

the honey-hunt  image:businessinsider.com

I’m free from trying to be what other people expect me to be. I can’t say I’m free from worrying what other people think – ‘How can she let her daughter dress like that?’ ‘She only reads bits and pieces of the Times’ ‘She doesn’t compost’- but I no longer expect perfection of myself, having long since stopped expecting it of anyone else.

I don’t let her dress like THIS.  image: amazon.com

I am aware that when I simply act like myself – blunt, profane, opinionated – some people enjoy it because I don’t fit their notion of sweet old grandma. But as I have told Amanda, who is in middle school and at the painful peak of self-consciousness, the only person who pays much attention to me is me. Everyone else is far too busy worrying about themselves.

As an old woman, I feel powerful despite the crumbling – the whiny joints, hole-y memory and various other ailments. When my hair began to go gray, it was a tweedy pepper and salt. I died it purple for a couple of years, and when I let it  grow out it had become a lovely puffy white.  Irrationally, I gained confidence from my white hair. I walk into a meeting and believe people think I know what I’m talking about and am worth listening to. This may be delusional; it is  contrary to the common notion that old women become invisible.

 
worth listening to  image:nydailynews.com

The world doesn’t want me to call myself old (insofar as it’s paying attention, having rather more pressing matters to attend to.). Huge amounts of internet verbiage are dedicated to avoiding the word. As soon as people find out that one or another synonym means old, and refers to them, they apparently get pissed off and the word becomes verboten in its turn.

I believe people shy away from the word out of fear. Along with freedom and power, aging brings loss. Regardless of what you call it,  the last twenty years or so of the journey will have challenges and growth that we never imagined when we were younger.  

One of the lesser challenges is how to respond to young people who insist on denying we are old. A waiter recently asked, “And what will the young lady have?” Finally fed up with this sort of thing, I said, “I’m sure you don’t mean to offend, but I’m not a young lady. I’m old.” He actually began to argue. I insisted, “I’m proud to be old,” and he retreated, looking very uncomfortable. I left a good tip to make up for it.

 
image: huffingtonpost.com

A group of journalists interested in aging issues surveyed 100 journalists about appropriate ways to refer to old people. (They didn’t say whether any of these 100 were nearing 100.) In Words to Age by: a Brief Glossary and Tips on Usage, they came up with guidelines “intended to help journalists represent midlife and older people in socially neutral language that respects their individuality without appending presumptuous labels to them, either directly or indirectly.”

The favorite term was “older.” Than whom, I have to ask?  They also approved, with much discussion and many cautions: elder, middle-aged, midlife, boomers, senior.  They disapproved of: baby boomers, senior citizen, elderly. After a while of reading all this I stood up and yelled “OLD, OLD, OLD.”

So if I’m rejecting synonyms and euphemisms, and insist on old, is it old lady or old woman?

Hip young men used to refer to a lover as “my old lady.” Though the phrase has a nice musical sound, ‘lady’ belongs to a class system and a set of rules. The concept puts women on a pedestal. It’s a great place to be if you want to be revered, but it restricts travel. I never heard those hip young men call themselves gentlemen.

old lady  image:enchantedserenityperiodfilms.blogspot.com

As a young feminist I rejected the sense of ownership, the elitism, and all the strictures that come with the name. My father used to tell me to sit like a lady – ie legs down and closed. A lady doesn’t admit to having  genitals, or if she does, she calls them private parts. She doesn’t ever use bad language. Now, as an old feminist, I can’t possibly call myself a lady, since I’ve taken to dressing inappropriately, in warm weather wearing nothing but a caftan all over town, letting my body take the air.

Just half the collection

 Old woman. The words come to a full stop. The sound is forceful, not flowery. Woman is strong, generative, sexual. Since I stopped being a girl I’ve been a young woman, middle-aged woman, and now I’m happy to call myself old woman.

Old is a proud title. By the time we are old most of us have walked many miles and climbed many mountains. We have survived our own mistakes. We’ve had lots of sorrow and lots of joy, some triumphs and accomplishments. We may have the wisdom to keep regret and pride in proper proportion. We have a lot to think about: our past is a multi-volume novel, and our future looms close with some of the biggest challenges of our life. I am awed, and yes, scared. I know I may have a very hard journey toward the big End. It will be no easier if I try to deny it.