“I’m an old bitch.”
That was the closest I could come. After all my looking for a word to describe myself, that’s where I ended up, and to be honest I was so angry by then that it felt about right.
It started very personal. How do I describe myself? With my age? Who am I now? I’m not retired. I don’t feel old. I’m not a senior. I’m a woman, and none of the words that exist for a woman at this time of life fit me. None of them.
Then I started writing essays and speaking to other women, writing for other women, and the problem got bigger. I need a word every day, in my writing and when I speak, and I still couldn’t find one. Every word I tried came with something negative attached. So I did shout-outs. I asked women what they would call this time of their lives. Nobody had a word. And I think, to be honest, nobody had ever thought about it. The women who were really retired called themselves retired. Others said old, or golden age, or one of the other names society has made up for us.
Look at the word old. Adult covers our twenties to our fifties, and that is already a lot of life. Old today covers fifty to a hundred. Think about that. Fifty years of a woman’s life, and one word for all of it, and the word is negative. We are so much more in this time of our lives than old, or golden age, or whatever else they call it.
So I started thinking, what are we really? I didn’t like any of the words, and I couldn’t wait for somebody to create a new one to fit us. I needed one now.
It came to me when I was out walking. I was going over it again, running through all of them. Senior, no. Senior and junior are words for men. Old, no. Retired, no. Golden age, no. And then elder. And I saw a picture. The elder I have always carried in my mind is a fully grown woman, and she looked like a Matriarch to me.
Then I realised that elder is a word about generations. Your elders are the generation before you, whatever age you are. When we were children we were told to listen to our elders, and there was respect in that. In a tribe or a community the elders are respected. They have knowledge and they lead. It is a word with honour in it, and it already exists. I don’t have to wait for anyone. So I chose it. All the other words are pathetic attempts to call us something.
To society I’m an old bitch. To me, I’m an Elder.
And so are you. You are an Elder. You have lived your years and the word belongs to you. You also have an Inner Queendom, the place where you belong to yourself again. The Matriarch is something else. That picture I saw on my walk, the elder who looked like a Matriarch, is a woman who has taken one more step. Nothing about that step is automatic. It is a choice, and it is yours to make, when and if it feels right for you. A Matriarch is a leader.
So tell me, what do you call yourself at this time of your life? Hit reply or drop it in the comments. I read every one.
Anna
P.S. If this spoke to you, come closer. Anna’s Atelier is the paid part of Hera, €9 a month or €90 a year. It’s where we work with this time of life through body, mind, emotions and scent, and where I ask every woman the same question: what can I do for you? If you’re not ready, read along for free and my essays will come straight to your inbox. You are welcome either way.
The first 25 women who join the Atelier for the year get a 30-minute session with me.