Ageism & Why All I Can Think About is Turning 40.

In my 20's once, my friend Sunne grabbed my face while I panicked over a boy and said, “Close-your-eyes-and-pretend-you’re-40!! SEE? EVERYTHING is OK!” Back then, 40 was just.so.far.away, a stable sounding magic number floating off in the distance—an abstract destination I never imagined reaching. Yet, as I round the corner and find myself a few mere months from 40 now, it’s become one of my life’s most substantial calls to action. Sunne’s assurances and promise of 40's comforts made me laugh then, but now I’m finding myself feeling a first time obsession with age. I actually had a browser blackout last night and when I came to, I was perusing a plastic surgery site for facelifts, comparing prices no less. WTF? It’s as if I’ve been injected with an ageism alien’s baby and have to carry it to term.

At 39, I published my first book http://www.zhena.tv/x/life-by-the-cup/ and it’s even been optioned by a big Hollywood Star’s production company (um, sorry to name drop but it’s MARK WAHLBERG!). I have a 14-year old son. I have a 4-year old daughter. I married my soul mate in a tea field in Sri Lanka and we have only fought once in the last year (goal for 40, zero fights). I founded and grew a multi-million dollar company, left that and am now beginning an exciting new venture inside my publishing house. I teach meditation, positive thinking, and how to find your purpose. I’m a chick in a henhouse, a babe in the woods, a young spirit with a mission to inspire others. So why does it feel like 40 is the ending point of my youth, a U-turn of sorts, the peak before the valley, the time to “get serious about retirement,” and the decade mark to donate my bikinis to my nanny?

Despite a rigorous spiritual practice and decades of transformational leadership work, and a career built on the empowerment of women, somehow now at 39.75 years of age I started to feel the subconscious effects of a sneaky stigma that has leaked into my psyche and made all of the milestones achieved seem small in the face of 40. What is this creepy misogyny that has infiltrated my better judgment? When I became aware of it, it scared me, it was nothing I stand for, but it was nonetheless present and persistent. So, I decided to examine why it was happening. I committed and within 24 hours, I saw where it came from. I’m reexamining my whole life, hoping that on the fated birthday, everything will be better than OK — I want my life to be nothing short of spectacular at 40. But first, I have to get more comfortable with the number.

40 is a number people point to in relation to our bodies and looks.
Okay, so if you’re in your 20's or even 30's and you wear a bikini to the beach and Star, People, Ok! or another magazine photographs you, they don’t mention your age. BUT, if you are 40 or greater in years gathered, they make a point of your age and its contrast to your body. Start to become aware of it, and send complaints to your fave gossip rags, because in actuality, they are creating an obsession by making it an issue. Sneaky ageism is hiding in plain sight in headlines like: Still hot at 40! Bikini Bod at 44! Does our society somehow believe that 40 is the point when our age has to be pointed out after our names? Today’s headline for Jennifer reads: “but to maintain Aniston’s ageless beauty at 45, it’s better to be not too thin.” (Today Show Health)

An older woman with a younger man is news, but an older man with a younger woman isn’t.
So, my son’s dad was 24 years older than me when I had Sage. The age difference was so obvious and challenging for me that the relationship could never survive (among other things). But, no one ever said anything about it except my parents. Yet, my girlfriends who are married to or dating younger men seem to have this on their minds, a lot. Why? Because of Ashton and Demi and other sad stories where age was made to be the issue. I was challenged to find a headline or story that didn’t somehow point to the age difference as a means to their downfall, as if it was another form of “she asked for it” by marrying a younger man and “what did she expect?” Did age ever get mentioned with Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas’s split last time? Nope, her Bipolar Disorder was mentioned, but not the fact he is 25 years her senior.

Men also experience it, but more in accomplishment than appearance
Just after I decided to look at ageism and why I was feeling plagued by it, I was invited to a meeting with a young entrepreneur. As he was listing his life’s phenomenal accomplishments, he said, “And then I turned 40.” He paused for several beats, waiting for my eyes to meet his. I smiled uncomfortably at the long pause, realizing he needed something from me. So, I agreed and mentioned I too was about to turn the 40 corner and he looked, well, relieved. In a room of 20 year olds, he needed me to somehow accept he wasn’t, well twenty. The twenty-somethings in the room looked as though they could care less, but this otherwise confident man was teetering on…was it insecurity?

It’s in our language, everywhere.
I was in my favorite local boutique and overheard a woman saying, “Yeah, once I turned forty, I just had to give up dairy, wheat and sugar just to be able to eat. I want to eat cheese, but I’ll get bloated and fat. Aging is the WORST!” The shopkeeper said, “Yes, I had to up my workouts to 5 times a week just to keep my wardrobe once I turned 40, I’m dreading 50.” It’s hard to escape our language, we are all trained to blame our age for so much, what if we removed age from the equation? What would we blame?

The Age Issue
After listening to the short conversation about age, I walked down to the post office to pick up my mail. The August issue of Vogue was lingering in my PO Box (my husband won’t even touch it to bring it home). As I lifted the gorgeous image of Blake Lively closer to my face (because I do all of the sudden need glasses, really), I read that it was the “Age issue.” So, we have the words age and issue in the same title, hm not so subtle of a double meaning. It read: “Getting superfit at 46, online dating at 57, torch singing at 87." Why, I wondered is the cover a 27-year old when the age issue called to those over 40? Why wasn’t it a superfit 46-year old or a torch singing 87-year old (because really, that is cool)? Oh, because if Blake was actually a superfit 46-year old, she’d be on the cover of More magazine, Good Housekeeping or Redbook and the title would be about how she lost weight or keeps her marriage going, subliminally alluding to the marvel that she keeps it together even tho’ she’s…a certain age. No one talks of Blake Lively’s age, well, because it’s not an issue yet at 27. If she’s still in the public eye at 47 we may see her in highrise jeans and a conservative sweater, holding a cake on Woman’s World’s cover, talking about “her secret for eating whatever she wants while somehow keeping her body toned” And then the unspoken—even at…47.

Breeding, Botox and Bikinis
I’m past wanting to have more kids. Although, the other day I was part of a conversation about getting pregnant and whimsically commented that maybe, hm, maybe one more could be fun. A younger woman (all of 35, but somehow seemed eternally younger) said, “Well, I just heard of a woman who had a baby at 43, so you really do have time!” She grinned assuringly, assuming somehow that I wanted her to comfort me, as if I needed comfort at all. Another instance was this year at my 20th class reunion when there was a nonstop barrage of hand-to-mouth comments circling the room, “Wow, you look GREAT!” and “I can’t believe how good you look, it’s really amazing! Have you had work done??” It reminded me of the gossip magazines with images of 40+ year old actresses: JEN STILL LOOKS GREAT AT 40! Halle’s beach bod at 46, thumbs up! As if there is an actual body cliff we mere mortals fall off of at 40?

Birthday Bashes at the Decade Mark
I’ve been fielding questions about what kind of bash I want for my 40th—months in advance. This has never happened to me before. My husband has never been so attentive in planning a party, actually, he’s never planned one for me before this one. Is he scared I might die, or are these big milestone birthdays later in life a form of making sure we are appreciated because we’re so much closer to the deathbed? Really, why do we do it? I wonder why we celebrate the “over the hill” type birthdays with such gusto, while the others slip by quietly? My 30th cruised by unnoticed. I’m leaning toward holding a meditation ceremony rather than a party. Perhaps it’ll help reverse the years of wine loving my 40-year-old body has endured—just in case I ever decide to wear a bikini again. (although I may wear one to the meditation just because it would be fun.)

Making Age a point upon death
I noticed something else in my 24 hour observance of ageism. And that’s upon death. I wonder why do we act shocked when someone dies at 40, 50, 63 but not so much if she’s 89? Does our idea of a human’s value go down as the age number goes up? We mourn the loss of years of untapped potential in the younger person’s death, but what about the loss of the years of tapped potential in an elder’s death?

At the end of the day, I concluded…
The western world is scared of dying. And because of that the western world is scared of aging. We make issue of age wherever we can, and then expect the periodic headline: 50 is the new 30! To somehow pick us back up and motivate us to stay optimistic and strong enough to keep paying our taxes.

I was working with one of my new authors the day after my 24 hour observation period. We’re creating a book about redefining beauty. She is a former model, had a surgery that damaged the nerves in her face and became partially paralyzed by it. She went from catwalks to physical therapy overnight. While discussing her life’s goals and plans, she said, “For God’s sake, I’m only 39, I have my whole life to figure that out! Jeez.” I was struck by the contrarian nature of her comment, a beautiful woman swimming in the opposite direction of me, seeing 39 as her youth. An hour later someone asked who I thought should play me in the show being developed of my book and without thinking I said, “Sarah Jessica-Parker, 20 years ago.” I cringed inwardly, realizing I’m a guilty contributor of this ageism cruelty too. I quickly recovered and said, “An unknown should play me, of any age, as long as she has big hair and a big laugh.”

As I read this to my friend who is 61, she said, “oh fuck that, I rode my bike 35 miles today before lunch. If I’m saggy, that’s okay as long as I can do that.” It’s a new version of, “Close your eyes and pretend you’re 40!” A welcome shift. Instead of focusing on 40, I’ll focus on getting my body to ride 35 miles before lunch. I’m committed to adopting an age free language from here on out. Join me?