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This Phoenix Speaks

Seven years in the making, my first published book, This Phoenix Speaks , is now a reality. The tireless and tiring work invested to ma...

rejecting rejection

Turning 40 this month is a once in a lifetime achievement. As a single woman, I now have the privilege of being rejected because I am no longer young.

Don't get me wrong. I do not feel old at all. I don't even think I look exceptionally old either. But the simple fact remains that I am no longer "in my 30s," and to too many men that translates into 'not young', 'too old for me', and 'not worth my time'. To be honest, I stopped giving that response after hitting 37 because I'm not into false advertising, and I realized that shallow men are the ones who ask a woman's age. It truly weeds out the jerks in one fell swoop of the axe they hold themselves. I shouldn't feel any need to advertise in the first place.

By looking at a 20-something, you can tell they are practically a baby. They still have a teenager look on their face until rounding the corner into their 30s. And the 30-somethings could be in their 20s or 40s depending on genes and how well they do or don't take care of themselves. And when we boil it all down, it's just a stupid game of sizing people up by their looks. I mean, reread what I just wrote, and you might feel just as nauseated as I do right now. I am so much more than the sum of my parts.

You know something else? I don't ask anyone their age, so why should anyone care what age I am? I can hardly keep track of how old anyone is except for my children, siblings, and close friends, and even then with friends it's only in relation to how much older or younger they are to me if I remember more than their birth month and day. When conversation gets any deeper than niceties, the age answer comes out naturally. Like, anyone who actually takes time to know me knows that I turn 40 this month. I don't hide anything really. Age is real, but it's relative too. I will be friends with anyone. Having a wide range of acquaintances, friends, and people to go on dates with keeps life interesting. I will certainly go out with anyone so long as they are adults who aren't shallow idiots.

I reject the notion that just because my body is naturally changing I am less beautiful, less worthy of notice, or less worthy of loving acceptance. Now I just need to not hold my breath that any man will figure that out any time soon.


  1. I enjoyed your thoughts on age. I'm 37 this year with a brand new baby. At recent parent teacher conferences (I'm a teacher) I met a parent who was holding their grand-baby and shared that they were "too old" at 36. I often wonder what people think when they see me, hair graying and wrinkles forming, carrying my beautiful baby around. Do they wonder, Grandma or mom? I simply feel the intense need to celebrate. Thirty-seven and a half! WOOT WOOT! Another year to celebrate. Thank goodness for this time!

    I also appreciated the final line in your second paragraph. I loved the notion that the men were holding their own ax as if they are responsible for their own loss -- the loss of an opportunity to know you!

    Happy Birthday!

    1. Your comment really gives me a sense of normalcy. It is a time to celebrate and appreciate. Thank you!


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