I’m 65 and when I look in the mirror all I see is ugliness Ask Philippa
The question Last year I turned 65 – even writing that number down seems incredible – and while I can appreciate that I managed to reach this age and see the benefits of life experience, I still do mourn my younger days. I spend a fortune on face creams and often sneak away at work to apply even more makeup. When I look in the mirror, all I see is ugliness. Recently I heard a man call me a witch. I put more than 3 on it. Now I can’t go outside outside of work. I rush home. My home is beautiful and safe, my three adult children and my husband try to reassure me but watch helplessly as I just sit in silence.
I did go to the doctor, but she only offered me antidepressants and then told me that I couldn’t turn back time and had to live in the moment. I just can not. I’m even afraid of going on holiday.
Philippa’s answer You can break away from your current mindset, but the process is unlikely to be passive. There are misogynists in this world. A misogynist sees a woman as a thing, an object, something they want to do things with, or look at as a work of art. Or something to be rejected, scorned and generally trampled upon. And the misogynistic culture is so widespread, and sometimes so subtle and denied, that it even creeps into the mindsets of girls and women.
An example of misogynistic thinking might be: unless a woman looks a certain way, in accordance with the standard of models used to advertise cosmetics, then what good is she? It’s gross, isn’t it? This creeping tide of misogyny would have us believe that we are less than we should be unless our skin and figure look like we are about 19 years old. So what should we do about it? Buying a miracle face cream is not the solution.
Very often our value systems – our beliefs and our personal philosophy of life – go unexamined, but if we were to examine them, we would probably change some aspects. So unpack your value system: lay it all out in front of you, look at all the messages you have been told overtly or covertly. Only put back what serves you and what serves humanity. This won’t be as difficult as you might think.
Youth and beauty can be appreciated and admired, but that does not mean that our dignity as human beings depends on our outward appearance. Perhaps you were a model of conventional beauty in your youth, and perhaps you subconsciously live under the illusion that this is why your husband married you, or why you are loved. But you hold on to beliefs and values that no longer serve you – and they can even disrupt the relationships that support and nurture you.
Without consciously doing it, you may have associated aspects of your life—your happiness, your happy family, your job—with how conventionally attractive you used to feel. It seems you’ve equated the inevitabilities of age (added wrinkles and extra pounds) with a lack of dignity. Do you love your daughter only because she has retained her beauty? You want to be her, but she will change as she gets older. Will her soul wither at the same time? Or will she become wiser, more curious about others, more loving and grateful for the life she has?
How did your mother feel and talk about the process of her aging? Are those the values that you have unconsciously adopted? Do you want to pass them on to another generation? To heal your self-consciousness, instead of imagining what other people think about you, shift your focus and be curious about them instead. What drives them? What are their concerns? For example, the man whose comment you heard feels better about himself by mocking women. Wow! What an ugly mind he has!
You give in to your monomania by holding on to thoughts about how you think you appear to others. We have thousands of thoughts every day. They start thinking when we grab them. But instead of grabbing them, watch them float away. Don’t be the thoughts, just observe the thoughts.
The point of being obsessive, whatever the obsession, is to distract you from something you don’t want to face. Find out what that is and face it.
I’ve said this before and I’ll probably have to say it again: what you tell yourself feels true, but it’s not true, it’s just known. You’re confusing the familiar refrains of your internal monologue with truth, so if you replace those refrains with other messages, they won’t feel as true—and the more you practice the new messages, the more familiar they become and the truer they start to sound. feeling. You don’t look worse than you did when you were twenty, you look different.
If you don’t dare to do this homework that I have assigned you, do it with a counselor and/or take up your doctor’s offer of antidepressants.
Philippa Perry’s The Book You Want Everyone You Love* To Read (and maybe a few you don’t read) is published by Cornerstone for £18.99. Buy it for €16.14 Guardianbookshop.com
Every week, Philippa Perry tackles a personal problem submitted by a reader. If you would like advice from Philippa, please send your concern to askphilippa@guardian.co.uk. Our general terms and conditions apply to entries