Recently, I found myself on a flight to Chicago, eager to reconnect with an incredible group of women who formed a sisterhood years ago during our grad school days, affectionately calling ourselves the “Sisterhood of the Traveling Dowagers.” Ironically, I was probably more of a ‘dowager’ back then, even in my 30s, as I was one of the older students in the program. But back then, no one ever called me “Ma’am.”
Fast forward to the present: I was seated next to a bright-eyed twenty-something who casually referred to me as “Ma’am” while squeezing past to her window seat. It was like a polite nudge that reminded me I was no longer the young, vibrant student I once was. Instead, she seemed to view me as someone from a different era—someone who belonged to a generation that was, well, old.
I chuckled about the incident with my friends at our reunion. “Can you believe I was called ‘Ma’am’?” I posted on social media, relishing the absurdity of it all. But inside, I felt a tightening in my chest as I stared at my reflection, with its wrinkles and signs of aging. That wasn’t the version of myself I held in my mind. I pictured a youthful face, full of life and promise, still navigating the world in my thirties.
Back in grad school, I often felt like the elder stateswoman among my peers, many of whom were fresh out of undergrad. They were on the cusp of their careers, chasing dreams they’d nurtured since childhood. I was there, too, but my dream was one I discovered later, after realizing that my past career as an entertainment lawyer wasn’t the right fit for me.
The Sisterhood of the Traveling Dowagers was formed during my second year. My friends and I, while not significantly younger than me, shared previous lives in various fields—from journalism to academia and beyond. We bonded over our experiences, not because we were older, but because we were seasoned in life.
Years later, our reunion in Chicago revealed just how much we had changed. Our hair had turned grayer, our faces more lined, but the essence of who we were remained unaltered. We had become the writers we always aspired to be, but we were also wives, mothers, teachers, and so much more. We’ve tackled our fears and celebrated our triumphs, yet somehow, the sparkle in each of us had survived the test of time.
The “Ma’am” incident still creeps into my thoughts during restless nights, leaving me sweaty and anxious. It’s not that I long for my youth; I appreciate the freedom that comes with age, like not being overly concerned about my appearance or the opinions of others. I embrace my inner unapologetic self, yet I can’t shake off the insecurities of my younger years—the doubts about my worth, the desire for approval from my parents, and the need for comfort when times get tough.
I never expected to feel so youthful in my older years. My past selves still swirl within me: the little girl trying to be perfect to stop her parents’ arguments, the young adult who was her own harshest critic, and the woman who ditched a stable career for a dream that doesn’t always pay the bills. I’m now a mother to a son who comforts me during my meltdowns, reminding me that it’s okay to start anew.
As I reflect on that weekend in Chicago, I remember the laughter and the camaraderie we shared, discussing everything from parenting to career ambitions. We even relived teenage excitement over a movie, debating the appropriateness of letting our sons watch it—because, you know, we’re all about those mixed messages.
Life is a blend of youth and age; both are inseparable parts of who we are. I can’t just toss out the bits I don’t want and say goodbye to them. Instead, I must navigate the layers of my past, present, and future. Perhaps that’s the true gift of aging: embracing the entirety of our experiences, which ultimately shapes us into more complex, beautiful individuals.
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Summary
This reflection on aging and identity captures the bittersweet realization that as we grow older, we often feel a youthful spirit within. The author shares experiences from a reunion with friends, highlighting the balance of life’s experiences, and the complexities that come with different stages of life. Ultimately, embracing all facets of oneself—youth, age, and everything in between—can be a profound gift.