There is a lot to me. I am heavy on more than just weight. I was given many gifts. I have overused some and neglected others. But on the whole I have at least tapped into most of what I was issued. This fact has made me hard to categorize. And there is no one who wants to pin me down more than me.
I watched the movie "The Banger Sisters" on Sunday. Depressed the heck out of me. The movie is about two middle aged women coming to terms with a shared and checkered past. One continues down the early path to become an aging hippie. The other becomes a conservative wife and mother. Neither is happy with her life. They meet up twenty years later. The conservative one reclaims her sexy past, and the other one goes blithely on. Bleck. Tooey.
My dilemma/depression was in figuring out who I identified with. I read in an article that the average middle aged American woman has slept with twelve people. Twelve? Ho ho, ha ha. Me thinks they underestimated. Okay so I have a checkered past. Does this define me? Nope. Nor does the early sexual abuse. But it is a factor. I am a conservative housewife, and, a blithe aging hippie. I have wanted the two facets to meld seamlessly. I want to stop swearing at church dinners and whistling hymns in bars. As I watched this bad message movie I realized I didn't really want the facets to blend. I like the facets. They are the sparkly sides of an integrated whole. What I want/wanted was for my conservative friends to acknowledge my checkered side and for my flamboyant friends to acknowledge my conservative side. But I don't really want that either. I do so enjoy shocking both groups. This is a self esteem and an age problem.
In the past I needed to be loved by both groups. At the expense of my total self. Or so I have always believed. But what if blending, revealing and fitting in, are first and foremost about maturity? At fifty we all have some kind of a past. Mayhap not the stereotypical sex, drugs and rock and roll, but something. As a middle aged woman I can't show show all my lived facets. There are now too many. I have to choose what I will reveal and to whom. I am more ice berg like by the day. I finally get to be exclusive. I have been self revelatory (boundaryless) in the extreme. I have always feared secrets. In myself and others. Now I am beginning to see them as treasures.
Okay back to the dumb movie. Eventually the conservative mom reveals her uninhibited sexy side to all and sundry. She dresses up like an aging sexpot for her daughter's graduation. This was presented as the ultimate liberation. I disagree. It was putting on a past identity at the expense of a current one. Why not let this sexy, liberated facet be the sole property of her delighted husband? So much more exclusive. If this facet occasionally gleams out unexplained in a more mundane setting what the heck? Everyone loves a mystery.
Take care of yourselves. Be exclusive. Love Bea