Dear Jessica: At 36, I was still getting catcalled in the street. At 46, I was being accosted by men on the streets of Paris and in cafes where I sat, by myself, reading and writing. At 50, and divorced, I was asked out by a man of 42 who was crushed when I told him he was too young for me. At 59, my lover frequently tells me I… Read More »Dear Jessica Valenti, You’re Missing the Cat Calls?
Some days I look in the mirror and I think: You look pretty good for a woman pushing 60. Other days I glance at myself and wonder: Who is that woman? She looks nothing like me. More than once I catch glimpses of my mother and my father in the way I look. And when I see photographs of my grandparents and parents when they were the age I am… Read More »Yeah, But I Still Feel Bad About My Face
At six months short of my sixtieth birthday I have a six pack. Well, practically. I can see the ripples of muscle more clearly than I ever had before even if they are covered in a small layer of post C-section, well-past menopause fat. The muscles are discernible. My arms are strong, too, the bat wings of old age less distressing than they might be. My legs can carry me… Read More »At Six Months Shy of Sixty, A Six Pack
I am sitting in a Five Guys mindlessly shelling peanuts and waiting for my hamburger when in a sudden and nearly breathtaking moment I miss my father. I realize I will never again see him, talk to him, try to understand him, make him understand me. His laugh so distinctive and infectious floods my mind. I miss his cockeyed smile, the way for so long I believed everything he told… Read More »Missing Daddy