My 40s were an awkward stage. Backtrack a little: In my 30s I began to feel legit as a grown-up. (I got through a lot of pain without running to my Mommy. Because now I'm the mommy!) That realization was my passport to adulthood—not losing my virginity or being old enough to drink or vote. It felt empowering. But almost immediately I was "pushing 40" and the menacing shadow of middle age camped just outside my tent. There wasn't time to mourn the loss of youth, it was time to fight off old age!
What happens to a woman in her 50s when she still hasn't learned what it is about her that makes her beautiful, desirable and intriguing? and perhaps an object of envy, or a threat? A woman lacking in that self-knowledge is vulnerable, and not in a good way. She's at risk. She may default to relying on men's approval and attention to be assured of her worth. But men pay attention to a woman in inverse proportion to the signs of her aging. She may compare herself to other women—dewy younger women will leave her cold; brittle older women will break her heart and women close to her age will bring up the acid in her stomach.
In fact it's this obsessive comparison with peers that slingshots a woman into angst the likes of which she hasn't felt since puberty. Friendships erode, self-esteem plummets and sanity skips town.
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