Why does it feel like I am invisible sometimes?

I just turned 58. And over the years I have heard women older than myself talk about becoming invisible. Ignored in stores. Dismissed by younger generations. Snickered at in the gym. I sense it now. I have felt it.

I have a pool at my loft. I love to sit out there sometimes and feel the heat of the sun on rare days that I have the time. But on days when it is busy with young buns in thongs, I sense that I am now in a different category. The aging soul among the soup of youth.

Ask me if I care.

At 58 a calmness has decended. I now luckily have reached an age where I may start to be invisble to the general public, but I also possess the peace to undersatnd that what used to bother me about myself I have embraced. Self-love is hard-earned.

The only time I don’t feel invisible is when I am around other artists. When I am teaching a workshop or enjoying my mentorship classes with my knowledge-thirsty mentorees who are now my beloved chosen family, I feel seen. I feel worthy. I feel young.

Because age may bring wisdom, but it also brings wisdom. (yes, I wrote that twice) And I have become smart enough to know that struggling for those size 6 jeans that I have fought for for decades did not bring me peace.  It occasionally gave me injuries. It gave me fatigue. It gave me a feeling I was never good enough and the bar would never be reached. I see people now on GLPs and they become stick-thin. And they are already young. Already thin. So what are they fighting? The bar never gets reached to skinny enough?

Oh, I still workout now. I want to stay active and strong. I love the reformer again. Yes, the very equipment that ripped my stomach open over 15 years ago and led to my crazy surgeries. Isn’t it ironic how life is circular?  But this time I have a robotic stomach and can’t rip anything ever again. And I watch the donuts.

But now I give myself grace. I worry about so many women I see that have to still have the body of a 24-year-old. I have been a portrait painter long enough to realize that you don’t get both- you can’t have a skinny body and a young face. You can’t. At my age you have to chose or split the difference. I have yet to meet a 60-year old skinny woman that doesn’t look 10 years older. If you starve yourself and have less fat, then you will look older. It is a fact. A few years ago I dated a bodybuilder and he was younger than me. Great abs, but I felt like I was out with my dad. Inject shit into your face all you want, but you will still look older, and sometimes just weird. Maybe time is meant to humble us.

When I was younger I never felt strong enough. Skinny enough. Young enough. But enter the arena of my studio? Enter the arena of my classroom? Enter an exhibition where my work hangs? I am beautiful. I am strong. I am young.

I am enough.

I have always believed that I was going to get through anything in my life. I was stubborn enough to believe it wholeheartedly so much so that I never worried about the future. Not in college. Not in high school. And it has been a gift. If I need something? It will happen. And it has always been that way. My friends affectionately call me “MMF” – Manifesting MoFo. It is because I like to think the universe is on my side. So, I have been blessed with an abundance of enough. To do what I love. To help those I love. And to become tangible by being seen through my work.

So I guess as I get older I will become even more overlooked. More ignored by young, hurried, waitstaff, by kids in the street, by teens at the pool.

But my goal now? That my work will guarantee that you may not see me, but you will not forget me.

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