… Okay my Dearly Beloveds, if you follow me on social media, you will know that I had issued a public warning about a series of rants / moaning sessions. If you don’t follow me on social media – well, you know the gist already ! This one is about some age-ism I have experienced as a woman.
This is not about Goth. This is about Society in general.
Hear me out.
Over the second half of 2018, I started to slowly, but surely, fall into a really confusing, mind-boggling and booty-juggling place.
I was gaining weight at the rate of an Olympic whale – yet I was exercising and walking to work; I was feeling low, anxious and moody; yet I had lovely colleagues, a healthy family and an overall peaceful life. I was feeling lethargic and unable to physically move – yet I was sleeping my full 8 hours, and literally doing nothing strenuous. Work was fine, my new flat had no demonic residents and I had so many lovely things coming up : London Edge, catching up with the lovely Heavy Metal Momma, shooting some awesome thrift finds and planning festivals and gigs.
However, with each day passing, my mind was getting more negative, self-hatred was soaring as fast as my butt was expanding. Ladies and Gents, my body would bloat harder than Marilyn Manson on crushed up cheesecake. And I have actually seen Marilyn Manson off his rocker at Download Festival [not pretty].
I was confused and feeling like I was going crazy – explaining to people that I did not feel like myself was proving impossible. Explaining why I was so miserable whilst my life was technically lined up pretty neatly for me, was making me feel atrociously guilty. Cancelling on friends and Heavy Metal Momma felt awful and flakey. Innerly, I felt a massive disconnect between my true self, and the zombie which was operating daily.
How to explain it?
Well it felt like I was controlled, like a muppet on strings, only the muppet was tied to heavy, constricting strings which would only produce slow, bare minimum moves.
I went to the GP and it was a horrible experience. Within a few minutes of explaining my issues, he looked me up and down and spouted ‘it must be your lifestyle‘. Gobsmacked, I asked him to clarify; and he further repeated in a patronising, condescending, assholy tone ‘I urge you to look at your lifestyle‘ – multiple times.
I was fuming – I had met this guy for 5 minutes and he was already making assumptions about my ‘lifestyle’? Oh yes guys, I forgot to mention that by that time, he had seen my piercing and tattoos … insert sarcastic eyeroll I proceeded to hit back, saying that I have a rather healthy lifestyle, and that I KNOW something is wrong with me. He then proceeded to tell me that this – putting on weight at a crazy alarming rate, feeling depressed and useless – is NORMAL for WOMEN MY AGE.
Excuse me?! Because I went through more eyeliner than Avril Lavigne, I should lie there and rot?
But you know what the sad thing is? he was not the first mentioning age to get me to shut up and accept my fate. A few people also chimed in with ‘get over it, you’re old now’. I was feeling even more lost and let down. But I knew something wasn’t right.
So I shipped my geriatric ass to France and proceeded to more tests.
I researched my symptoms. I asked about having my thyroid tested, I asked about everything under the sun, the moon and uranus. (yeah am talking about that asshole GP!!)
I found what my issue is and I sorted it – took matters in my own hands and booked an appointment to follow up with specialists – because HELL TO THE NO, I wasn’t going to settle for feeling like crap because it is ‘expected for my age’!! And guess what, it was all hormonal related, through an implant with atrocious side effects no one talks to you about – something which I had mentioned as an option to the GP who fobbed me off with his nasty attitude. He denied it completely as an option. I did not.
I now feel miles better than I did previously, and I am not and will never settle and rot in a corner just because society deems women over the age of 30 to be fit for an Ikea display.
I still have plenty of damage to fix, but my mind is clearer. I feel more in tune and less zombie like. I am more confident even though I have a ton of weight to shift, including the GP off my surgery.
So my fabulous Friends with many springs, summers, autumns and winters under your belt – do not let anyone tell you that your seasons don’t matter, for we are well seasoned and spicy and have no expiry date !!
So folks, have you ever encountered age-ism?
Let’s chat in the comments!
Outfit : Jacket, £29.99 from Reserved
Dress : Motorhead dress from EMP
Boots : Ebay (old!) – will dig out the links and update.
Necklace : Skully Bunting on Etsy
Earrings : Ebay