The Secrets Behind Why Women Over 35 Give No F*cks.
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I remember watching them when I was in my early twenties: middle-aged women laughing until they cried with their girlfriends, alternating too much coffee with a pitcher of mimosas over brunch.
These women always seemed to be in the middle of having a party everywhere they went together… and everywhere they went, they were unapologetically loud.
At the ripe old age of 22, I didn’t get it. These women were old. They were probably even mothers. Why weren’t they at home doing laundry and watching TV?
Now I’m one of those women, and for those in this glorious sisterhood, you know the secret: women with enough life experience just plain give no fucks. If you’re not quite there yet, I’ll let you in on some of our stories.
We were reserved about our art once too
Artists, writers, dancers, athletes, singers in the choir: in our twenties, we dabbled in our craft. We focused on wanting to fit in, and wanting people to like us.
We blended in, conformed, doing what other people wanted us to do… until one day, we woke up feeling like we’d sold a piece of our souls.
That wake-up moment is a crossroads, dearies: get on your own glorious, shameless path, or stay lost.
Those loud women chose to make their own way, and in the process, they wrote the words that were razor-sharp, or trained for that marathon because they wanted to do it. Embracing who you are is freeing.
We’ve loved and lost and loved again
Many of us have been married. Many of us have been divorced and even remarried… and if you’re me, that would be married, divorced, married, divorced.
We know what it is to believe with our whole hearts that someone will be with us forever, and then the whole relationship implodes, leaving us weeping on the floor, a shattered mess.
These wild women of experience in my tribe know that love will come again. We know that some lovers are just a blip on the radar to shake the cobwebs off our dancing shoes, and other lovers may linger… but we know that love comes again.
We don’t have to dress to impress every time we leave the house, because we know our right and proper paramours see the real us: passionate, creative, and raw, even in our jeans and hoodies.
Love may have left the building, but we know it’s just a matter of time before love kicks the front door down and takes us on another adventure.
We’ve been to more than one funeral
We’ve lost family members to age and illness, but we’ve also lost friends. We’ve gathered at memorials for our friends and barely spoken, choking on the pain of seeing our friends’ names on tombstones.
Losing your peers knocks the blinders off fast. You see how fleeting and fragile life is, and so you stop fooling around and wasting so much time. You publish the story. You accept the invitation. You sing at karaoke.
You live to the breadth and width given. You laugh with your girlfriends, because you finally get that every time you gather really is a reason to celebrate.
If you are one of us, welcome to the tribe, Sister. We dance here. We laugh here. We talk loud and say Fuck whenever we feel like it. We paint or run or lift our hands up to the moon; whatever it is that makes us happy, we do.
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Kat Craig is a writer, tarot reader, and teacher in Asheville, NC. She hogs the mic at karaoke, charges crystals in the moonlight, drinks too much coffee, and believes Converse sneakers are appropriate for most social occasions. Join Kat’s email list for a free story, and find her on Facebook for writing updates and too many photos of her pets.
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