Without question, we live in a youth obsessed culture. People spend thousands of dollars undergoing horribly painful cosmetic procedures that typically do more to make them look frightening than to actually preserve or restore a youthful façade. But I refuse to buy into that mess. I don’t understand why anyone would put themselves through that; do you guys not realize how pathetic those desperate attempts to slow the progression of time are? Don’t you get how all of that is an annoying transparent manifestation of a fear of becoming irrelevant and unfuckable, which is really, deep down, a fear of death? Don’t you want to be braver than that? And more important, do you people not realize how completely incredible it’s going to be to get really old? Old people run this shit. Here are 21 pieces of evidence proving that theory, so that we might all stop dreading the unstoppable passage of time and embrace the distinct kinds of badass that we can only be once we’re of a certain age:
No one judges you if you want to go to bed at 8:30 PM. Actually, if you last that long, people are like, “Damn, she goes hard.”
Discounts on everything
Cutting in line. I don’t care if I have the healthiest, least afflicted elderly body in the game, as soon as there’s a long line at Trader Joe’s or the Denny’s bathroom, I’m acting my ass off like every bone I have is aching like crazy.
Letting my grandkids and great grandkids go through my closet and try on my old clothes from when I was young, which they will find endlessly fascinating. Let them pick one thing to take with them. Love the fact that they are going to get so much vintage cred when they wear it to school.
Going to the same place and ordering the same food every single day. When you do that in your 20s, people throw around hateful words like “boring”, “obsessed”, and “scurvy”. But when you’re super old, that’s just what you do. The wait staff knows your name and your order and you are a beloved customer who can eat whatever you want because you know what you like and you’re about to die.
Not giving a fuck about anything. Oh, I accidentally bumped your chair? Whatever, I’m incredibly old – I’m literally not even going to acknowledge you. It’s kinda your fault for having your chain in my way in the first place. I ran someone over with my car? Oops, total oldie moment! My bad! *drives off*
Letting scammers think they’re going to dupe me and waiting until they’ve wasted as much of their time as possible before telling them they aren’t getting a penny from me and to suck my dick (which is only a thing I would attempt pulling off as an old lady because there’s nothing more endearing than an old lady telling someone to S the D.)
Gray/silver/white hair FINALLY.
Having a cane whether I need it or not. Gesturing with it to make a point. Hitting people with it when they cross me.
Getting credit just for showing up to things. Really old people can just sit in a corner and not talk to anyone for the duration of an event (aka, what I want to do at every single event for my entire life) and no one thinks they’re anti-social or rude. They’re just “tired” and “it took a lot for them to even be here” and people will just walk over and hand them a piece of cake or a glass of lemonade and back away slowly. That’s the dream.
Freaking out my kids/grandkids. I’m terrified of death, so naturally I use humor to cope to with that fear. I imagine as the darkness of eternity starts creeping closer, I’ll deal by doing fucked up things like playing dead when family members walk into the room, or sending texts like “OMG dyyying byeeee! <flatline>”. My loved ones will think it’s cruel, but really, I’m just trying to get them warmed up for the real deal.
Never wearing any clothes that are tight or uncomfortable again, but also taking my sweet time getting ready for any occasion. It takes time to pick out the perfect outfit, even if every option feels like jammies. I intend to be the Carrie Bradshaw of sensible, orthopedic shoes.
Finally relating to Golden Girls. Or rather, finally not feeling weird about how much I’ve always related to it.
Making up ridiculous stories about the past and telling them to my grandkids like they actually happened
Suddenly pretending to be senile and confused when my grown children try to argue that those stories did not, in fact, happen at all. Disrespectful monsters. If I say it happened, it happened. Jon Favreau and I were a thing. Shut your ungrateful mouth.
Keeping candy in my purse without judgment
Calling my purse a “pocketbook”
Have sex after menopause and finally not being worried about getting pregnant
Continuing to understand how to use current technology to defy stereotypes and staying on social media to make my grandkids feel real awk about whatever slutty shit they’re posting.
Doing things like gently dancing in a pool with a bunch of my fellow elderlings and having that count as exercise
Carrying around a little pillow with me everywhere if I’m going to have to sit for very long because my neck or ass might hurt. I would absolutely carry a pillow everywhere with me now if it were socially acceptable.