There's a particular kind of grief that many of us experience as we get older.
But we don't always have a name for it.
It's the grief of being seen differently.
The way the world looks at us can begin to change.
And it's often confusing and confronting.
Because we usually don't feel too different inside.
We're not suddenly less interesting,
Less creative,
Less passionate or less worthy.
But many of our societies have an ageist element to them.
And for women especially,
There's a moment,
Sometimes gradual,
Sometimes shockingly sudden.
When we realize that we're no longer receiving the same kind of attention we once did.
We might feel as though people are looking past us more easily.
Or our presence may feel less important.
We might walk into a room and realize that we're no longer the person people instinctively noticed first.
And this can bring up a complicated kind of grief.
Because it's not just about our appearance or vanity.
It's about identity.
Many of us were taught directly or indirectly that our appearance is tied to our work.
How attractive or youthful we're perceived to be is linked to how much attention we received.
Being noticed can feel like evidence that we matter.
That we're desirable,
Relevant.
Included.
Accepted.
All these things serve to make us feel good.
So when that external validation begins to dry up or disappear,
We can find ourselves asking,
Who am I if I'm not being reflected back to myself in the same way?
It's a tender question to sit with.
And it deserves our compassion.
We don't have to pretend that aging is only liberation and wisdom.
Those things can be true.
But the grief of what's changing can also be true.
And this is really why I advocate for us to separate our self-worth from our appearance at any age.
So the invitation here is not to deny the grief of being seen differently or maybe feeling as though we're not being seen at all.
It's to listen to what the grief is asking for.
Sometimes underneath the pain of becoming less visible.
There's a deeper longing.
To be valued beyond the surface.
To be appreciated for our experience,
Our insights,
Our perspective.
To no longer have to earn our place by being pleasing or impressive or young.
There's a powerful shift that can happen when we stop asking.
Am I still being seen?
And begin asking.
Am I truly seeing myself?
Because there's a kind of visibility that comes from outside.
From being admired,
Desired,
Chosen.
And there's another kind of visibility that comes from within.
The ability to witness ourselves.
To acknowledge the woman we've become.
To honour everything she survived.
Everything she learned.
Everything she created.
Everything she still longs for.
Ageing asks us to develop a different relationship with being seen.
It's not about proving our worth,
But knowing our worth.
And then it becomes much less relevant how we're perceived.
Because we feel anchored in our own lives.
And that's not something that's at all dependent on how we look.
