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Stop Commenting on Strangers’ Ages
You really can’t tell from a woman’s appearance.
I read Betsy Denson’s essay, “I Knew I Could Count On You, Billy Idol” and it resonated with me. We don’t need to give up the things we love just because we’re aging. Rock those red pants, Betsy!
The line that caught my eye, though, was this one:
Like when I look in the mirror, I see the 25-year-old me, but the woman at Michaels who asked me if I was getting my granddaughter’s artwork framed sees someone else entirely.
For the record, Betsy’s daughter was 11 at the time. I cringed when I read that and was horrified for Betsy! The staff member should have simply said, “What lovely artwork!” and Betsy could have replied, “Thank you. My daughter drew it.”
But too many people, including women, like to make assumptions about other women’s ages. Unless you’re guessing that I’m far younger than is realistic (yes, I am happy to be carded anytime and take it as a compliment!), then stop commenting on strangers’ ages.
Reading about Betsy’s experience immediately reminded me of my “Michaels” moment almost 20 years ago.
When I was 27, I threw my back out. It happened so unexpectedly. I was walking in the kitchen and suddenly sneezed violently mid-step. I…