I Want to be an Old Wise Woman When I Grow Up

Their intelligence and truth shimmer in the air around them like fairy godmothers.

Have you ever noticed how a woman becomes more inspiring as she ages? Almost as if wisdom and courage seep into her as her hair turns grey. Silver drowns the years of female expectations strand by strand. Suddenly she no longer cares what you think. She’s bit her tongue long enough.

These women are my favorite. They speak up and refuse to sugar-coat the truth. They voice their opinions with confidence, never shying away from their own mind. People listen to and respect their wisdom and strength. I want to point to them and say, “that’s what I want to be when I grow up.”

As most little girls do, I noticed early on boys and girls had different roles and rules in society. As far as my young mind could tell, boys were allowed to do just about anything they wanted with little to no consequence. Usually nothing more than a verbal warning at best. Whereas girls were told how to look, feel, and think. Not to mention what to say, do, or eat.

Thankfully, my parents attempted to equalize treatment between me and my brothers. I was known as a tomboy because I enjoyed climbing trees and hated being confined by my clothes. Dresses were my ultimate nemesis.

Despite my parent’s efforts, society’s expectations for me infiltrated my subconscious. At first, I was the girl the boys came to for advice about my cuter friends, the friends who liked dresses. I watched those same friends slowly chip away at themselves for a guy’s approval. Even though I was annoyed, I eventually succumbed to the same behavior once I began getting some male attention too.

Social status and hormones rule the life of a teenager, even before the existence of social media. Logic rarely exists so the double standards between boys and girls became just one more item on the list of things that don’t make sense and aren’t fair.

I learned to please, to smile, and how to make my butt look good. All of which became second nature as I discovered these tactics were apt to get me what I wanted. My inner voice became dim under the booming baritone of the patriarchy telling me I’m wrong. I’d been mansplained so often I hardly noticed anymore. My default was to just smile and nod, seeking approval was the objective.

If I was lucky, I’d catch a glimpse of a brave older woman in action. The mere sight of her fills me with inspiration. The world stops while she’s in view, my ear tunes in like when I hear my name mentioned in another room.

I pondered how to become like her. I thought courage was the answer. I started speaking my mind more, turned down plans instead of going out of obligation, and disagreed out loud instead of in my head. But I was not met with the same admiration. I was stared at like I’m crazy and gaslit back into my place. I had not earned my right yet. I didn’t have wisdom. I was still young and naive. Courage without wisdom is folly.

I retreated further behind my smile and nod. I spent years breaking myself down into smaller shards. I’m no longer sure of who I am. Am I my own person, or a walking combination of other people’s opinions? Why do I look, speak, and behave the way other people prefer? How would I look, speak, and behave if it were up to me? I wondered during a sleepless night.

A little while later, I was standing on a corner waiting for a crosswalk signal to change. It felt as though a string emerged from the vulnerable space just below my sternum. The end of which I couldn’t see but I knew I needed to follow it. Expectations be damned.

For ten years, I said yes to all the things I was told not to do. I dated the bad boys, I tried drugs, I explored polyamory, I got tattoos, and became a strip club connoisseur. Then I traveled to seven countries in two years – I even traveled alone to three of them. I stopped worrying about breaking rules and started creating my own. I found my own boundaries, limits, and expectations. I developed the courage to say no when I want to and learned how to stand my ground.

When I was younger, I thought what made older women special was their courage to break society’s expectations – but that’s only part of it. In truth, it’s the wisdom and experience which make an older woman glow. Their intelligence and truth shimmer in the air around them like fairy godmothers.

Now in my thirties, I realize I don’t have to wait until I’m older to speak my mind. I don’t have to abide by societal standards. I can have the freedom I’ve coveted for so long. I don’t have all the wisdom I’ll ever have, but I can share what I’ve learned so far. There’s still another thirty years before my brown hair is fully grey, in truth, I haven’t even gotten my first strand. But you can bet when I do, I won’t be crying about wasted youth.

I’ve lived, and experienced, and loved, and lost. No, I won’t be sad. I’ll be excited to join the most amazing stage of aging and become an older wise woman. I’ll remove my verbal filter and have the courage to speak my mind with the wisdom I’ll have learned from a long life lived. That’s what I want to be when I grow up.