Inevitable

I experienced one ring of my personal hell today. (As opposed to generic, global hell like tragedies in developing countries, the recession and bad movies.) Call it vanity, a reminder of my mortality, or the evils of the aging process, it’s just rather depressing. Here’s what happened.

Alice and I went shopping today in part, so that I could buy a bathing suit. That alone should give you an idea of where this is headed. I buy swim suits about once a decade. I’m not kidding. The last suit I bought was in 1999. I remember it because I was in Madison Wisconsin and took advantage of the Lands End Outlet, which has good prices on decent suits. And I’m pretty sure that the one before that, also a Lands End suit, was in the late 1980s soon before we moved to Madison. So, another decade, time for a swim suit.

I’ve avoided it largely because I rarely swim and can fake it for the few times I visit the beach. But we’re going on a cruise next week to the Bahamas and I’m guessing time at the pool, on the sand and near water is going to be part of the deal.

But in the ten years since my last swimsuit, something significant has occurred. I passed the 50 mark. And as that happened, as predicted, my body changed. Gravity took over, my job requiring long hours sitting at a computer became evident, and my lifestyle of moderate eating/moderate exercise just wasn’t enough to keep this woman firm and toned. Mostly it’s been OK. I’ve followed a failsafe 3 pronged plan to counter aging:

1. Cover it
2. Ignore it
3. Deny it

Until today, when I tried on swimsuits. Ugh. After a few it was bad enough that I’d about decided to give up and wear shorts and a t-shirt during the trip. But Alice was highly motivated to get me into a swimsuit. Really, her cheerleading was wonderful. She was very supportive and encouraging, through the louvered door, assessing how each suit looked. And she and I agreed on one that looked better than the others.

And then….

Alice joined me in the dressing room and stood next to me in the mirror.

Alice. My 5′9″ rail thin, gorgeous, fashion model daughter.

There’s nothing to kill the little bit of courage and motivation you have around something you’re insecure about than the vivid reminder of someone who is exactly who you aren’t, and can never be. My sports analogy is a former athlete who is playing with a younger version of herself. Only the younger person is twice the player she ever was.

I look at Alice every day, and occasionally glimpse the two of us in windows and remark on the difference in our heights (she has me by 6″). But this side by side, close up, me in a swimsuit at 54 and her in a tank top and short shorts at 16 (almost) was something else. The stark contrast in our heights and shapes reminded me of “The Truth about Cats and Dogs.” But mostly it reminded me of the inevitability of aging.

And the reasons why I might want to continue those trips to the gym.

And return to my 3 pronged approach.

~ by modelmom on July 28, 2009.