I loved the It Gets Better campaign created by Dan Savage and Terry Miller to discourage suicide among LGBTQ youth. Reflecting on one death in particular in his Savage Love column, he wrote, “I wish I could have talked to this kid for five minutes. I wish I could have told Billy that it gets better. I wish I could have told him that, however bad things were, however isolated and alone he was, it gets better.”
I believe the message is realistic and appropriate and right on – and not just for gay teens. I loved how the message was picked up by so many people across the USA to tell all young people suffering from isolation and in fear – gay or not – your life will improve, things do get better after your teen years.
I believed in the campaign because I believe it is the truth, that if you can survive the bullying, harassment, insults, belittling, fear and insecurities of your teen years, you will get to leave that situation and be more in control of your life as you move into adulthood. It gets better. It’s true.
Now, I’m in my 50s. And things are dire in ways that are a lot like those teen years. And I’m not sure it gets better.
For women in our 50s, it seems that society, from TV commercials to TV show characters to activities promoted to our age group, believes that our lives are supposed to be focused on our children or grandchildren, or going to a local casino. The idea that some people over 50 might not want to limit their lives to those roles, or not have those roles at all, is met with confusion and disbelief. I had a person tell me I should check out the local senior center because there’s a lot going on. Here’s what I found: bingo, free lunches on Fridays, a monthly accordion concert, workshops on how not to get scammed on the Internet, and a bus that leaves every morning for a nearby casino, and returns every evening. If those appeal to you, good for you, but to me, I’d rather watch paint dry.
Most every woman I know in their 50s is struggling with mental health issues. We’re experienced professionals – managers, program directors, journalists, graphic designers, human resources specialists, accountants and on and on – yet no one wants our expertise. I’m seeing women all around me pushed out of our careers. I’m not able to find work worthy of my skills and expertise and I’m not being taken seriously in job interviews. Doctors don’t listen to me during appointments. We’re also ignored when trying to get involved in activist work or even just when trying to get service, especially in a crowded bar or restaurant (pre-COVID, of course), we get funny looks when we show up at Marvel movies or kayak lessons, and for those trying to date, forget it: men in their 50s want women in their 30s, or younger.
And the pandemic has made things even worse.
Referring to her anticipated disappearance on her upcoming 50th birthday, the writer Ayelet Waldman said to an interviewer,
I have a big personality, and I have a certain level of professional competence, and I’m used to being taken seriously professionally. And suddenly, it’s like I just vanished from the room. And I have to yell so much louder to be seen.
It me.
Among the many reasons I love riding a motorcycle is because when I tell people I ride, or they see me next to my motorcycle or carrying my gear, THEY SEE ME. Suddenly, I’m a living, breathing, interesting person, worthy of attention and respect. I would ride even if that didn’t happen, but I absolutely love it when it does. Also, I believe what I’ve spent on motorcycles, equipment, gas and travel expenses is a lot cheaper than a decade of therapy.
But not every women can take up motorcycle riding – or wants to. And I won’t be able to ride forever. And I can’t ride every day.
In so many ways, I’m feeling like I did as a teen. I feel invisible. I feel like I don’t matter. I’m feeling like life is passing me by. Whereas when I was a teen I felt like good years were too far in front of me, out of reach I feel like good years are too far behind me, that they aren’t coming back.
It gets better isn’t working for me, or for most women in this age group. Because we don’t see how it can be true.
If you read this blog in 2018, you know I’ve experienced this feeling for a while.
Also see Gen X, struggling for employment? I hear you
Here’s what I think “senior” centers should actually be, FYI.
Leave a Reply