FROM the late 1980s to the early 1990s, there was such riotous fun happening on TV, and it was a show called The Golden Girls. It starred Bea Arthur as the divorcee substitute teacher Dorothy Zbornack, Rue McClanahan as the lusty widow-art museum curator Blanche Devereaux, Betty White as the dimwitted Rose Nylund, and Estelle Getty as Dorothy’s wisecracking 80-ish mother Sophia Petrillo. The girls, who were all in their 50s (except for Sophia), lived in Blanche’s house in Miami—the retirement capital of the United States.
The sitcom was great fun because it portrayed in a humorous light most of the problems that aging women go through, their foibles and how they meet each obstacle that came their way. They were four different women who had their own quirky personality traits but somehow got along with one another, and helped each other out in times of trouble. It was about friendship and the lengths of tolerance older people give (or sometimes not, as in the case of Sophia) with other people or in inconvenient situations.
It was a hit because, let’s face it, old people are just funny. They have their own unique type of wisdom that is dispensed to the younger generation with sincere concern but loaded with wit.
In one episode, Blanche does everything to make herself appear younger than her 50 years, and goes out on a date with her younger aerobics instructor. (She is a fan of bee pollen—something that a few of my older friends do take to supposedly be energetic and ward off illnesses.) One of the best lines from that episode is one I’ll never forget:
Dorothy: Blanche, age is just a state of mind.
Blanche: Tell that to my thighs.
Although I was in my 20s when The Golden Girls was on its original series run, I was always conscious of my thighs and had imagined myself feeling the same way as Blanche did about her saggy thighs when I reached her age.
The sitcom though showed that “old” could be cool. Because of The Golden Girls’s huge success, even supermodels and female celebrities started admitting to their real age, and shared tips on how to age gracefully.
Well surprise. Just this week, I finally turned golden myself and reached the age of my favorite sitcom personalities. Though I’m not yet quite ready to be put out to pasture at Shady Pines, I, too, am trying to bravely handle the sudden limitations of my age. Because in truth, when people go past 45, the difficulties we endure are more physical rather than psychological.
For instance, my friend from college, M, announced the other week that she was looking for a chiropractor. Unlike me, M is a seriously active person who can never sit still. She’s into badminton and just recently took up scuba diving. After reminding her that chiropractors aren’t real doctors despite the practice of many to attach the “Dr.” prefix to their names, M confided that she needed a wholistic approach to her various physical ailments like hamstring and lumbosacral strain, rotator cuff tendinitis, plantar fasciatiis, etc. “It’s annoying that I can’t cross-sit or cross my left leg over my right, or that I have lower back pain,” she said, exasperated.
After sustaining a fall nearly three years ago, which left me with rotator-cuff issues in my left shoulder, I became seriously frustrated that I couldn’t do certain yoga poses like the parsvakonasana, which required me to keep my right knee bent in a side angle pose, the other leg stretched out sideways as well, then lift my left arm from my hip to over my head in one full sweep. It may sound complicated but it is actually a very basic yoga pose. But try as might, my left arm would not go overhead in a 180º to my stretched-out leg. It was stuck at 90º, and I’d wince a bit from pain if I tried to force my arm any further. After two years of physical therapy, which really did not get me the results I needed, I just changed my perspective about it and resigned myself to the possibility that my shoulder would never heal to its pre-accident flexible state.
Then those damned hot flashes came! As any woman approaching 50 or thereabouts can attest (i.e., the perimenopausal stage), the sudden extreme heat we feel that makes us perspire even in an air-conditioned room can be intense. Another friend, D, who turned 50 last year, was livid. “Imagine waiting in the bank then you’re the only one fanning yourself?!”
I started having them with such ferocity last year that my power bill skyrocketed to unbelievable heights. Yes, the hot flashes would happen even while I was asleep, which made me even kick off the warm duvet over my body just so that I could absorb the cold air. It’s probably one of the major causes of sleeplessness at our age.
The weight gain can also be disturbing. No matter how we try to diet or even exercise, it’s pretty difficult to keep those pounds at bay. Of course, more poundage means susceptibility to all sorts of fat-related medical conditions like high-blood pressure, cardiovascular disease, diabetes and the like. (Of course, if these conditions run in your family, the likelihood of you getting them despite being svelte and sexy will still be high.)
And well, sigh, all those little crinkles and wrinkles that start appearing on our faces despite having oily or combination skin are just troublesome. So off we slather moisturizers, sunblocks, correction creams, to stop the march of time on our faces. In my case, I cheat by using a blur cream…or as Ms. Jessica calls it “liquid photoshop.” And I swear by it! My complexion in all my photos look flawless! Thank God!
But then, being 50 has its own rewards as well. We become more spiritual and try to do good for others. As teens, it is all about “me, me, me”. But by 50, we think of the welfare of our fellowmen, we care more for the environment, and look to enriching our lives through various experiences instead of being so focused on material wealth.
We speak our minds and behave in a manner we are most comfortable with. We’re no longer afraid of what people would think of us. If they have issues with our behavior, it’s their problem, not ours.
So when I finally turned the Big 5-0, I threw a small party for my family and close friends. (See, at 50, you can afford to be choosy about who you want to hang out with.) It’s incredible to still be alive at the half-century mark. And aside from the occasional physical aches and pains, emotionally and psychologically, I am still the same as I was when I was…49.
Seriously, I look forward to the many exciting adventures I am still about to experience (and post them on Facebook and Twitter, of course!). I’m eager to meet more people, discuss new (or old) ideas, and travel to more places on earth. And, yes, being 50 means having more financial means to accomplish all that!
So, take that, 20s! You can take all that awkwardness and clumsiness back where you came from. I’m so glad to be golden! Saggy thighs and all!