On Turning 50 and Getting “Old”
Gloria Steinem famously promised that “one day, an army of gray-haired women may quietly take over the Earth.” Well, Gloria, I’m turning 50 tomorrow. And I’m ready to take over.
OMG… 50!
OK, it’s just a number… but it’s a loaded number. 50 is a marital milestone — the “golden anniversary” — and it bears Biblical significance — the Jubilee, I think? Ironic, for someone who is neither married nor Biblical. What’s more, my birthday is December 25. When your birthday is intertwined (read: hijacked) by a major global religio-commercial holiday, things get kinda confusing. Firstly, there’s the great crime of the combined gift. And then the tragedy of birthday overshadowing.
Crimes aside, turning 50 is a big deal. It’s a midlife transition — although more than half my life is already over. It can be a time of reflection, reassessment, recalibration. It’s a good time for navel-gazing, followed by a crisis. Should I quit working? Move to Peru? Start watching romantic comedies?! Not sure which path my crisis should take.
I hope that it is a moment of recognition — of the life I’ve lived so far and the meaningful (and pretty cool) stuff I’ve done. And maybe also a little tweaking for the next decade or so. And… surprise! There’s an undeniable gender element here. For many of us, this is a time of hormonal upheaval and the physical and emotional changes that come with menopause. There’s also a social burden — the image of the “old woman” who must do whatever it takes to stay young. When the algorithm isn’t showing me the world’s warmest underlayers (my most searched phrase), it is bombarding me with anti-aging potions, magic vitamins, and ads for “silver singles.”
There is a “silver” lining here. For many women, turning 50 brings the freedom of self-awareness, and — hopefully — the joy of self-acceptance. I’ve found that my give-a-shit-o-meter is permanently set to zero — I just don’t care about what people think anymore. Blissful liberation after decades of baggage!
But this blog isn’t just about me. I’m interested in how older women are perceived across cultures — with a mix of respect, fear, and prejudice. At this stage of our lives, we’re both wise and demonic. And we’re bombarded with reductive narratives and terminologies — the lexicon of the patriarchy to dismantle our power.
Let’s start with the crone — a negative term for “old woman.” Crones are depicted as physically unappealing — all warts, wrinkles, and wickedness. In many myths, the crone symbolizes decay and is an omen of infertility. (Or: an excellent form of birth control.) She is tied to the dark arts, appearing as a witch or sorceress to cast spells on the young and attractive.
Sister to the crone is the hag — perceived as an even more sinister character. Hags are warped by their bitterness (sometimes there’s a backstory of lost love lurking here). She’s a shrew (another word for an older woman!) who lives alone with nothing but her resentment.
And then there’s the witch, most common of the old-lady stereotypes. More often than not, witches are powerful forces who use their magic for evil. And there’s the tragic history of the persecution and violence inflicted upon women believed to be witches. We have yet to truly undo the crimes of our witch-hunting past.
In some places, this persists in the present. For instance Papua New Guinea, a country I lived in for many years, where women are labeled as witches and blamed for any ills that befall the community. Sorcery-related killings are a form of violence against women.
Throughout history, women accused of witchcraft were often leaders and wise women in their communities. They were the keepers of oral histories and medicinal secrets, and in tune with the land around them. Most of all, they held enough social power to challenge any man in charge.
Beliefs in witchcraft and sorcery exist in some African countries, where witches can be forces of good or evil. Traditional healers, shamans, medicine (wo)men, and others are often labeled “witch doctors,” denying their knowledge of herbal remedies, spiritual practices, and other traditional methods of healing.
Some Indigenous American cultures also have beliefs that might be perceived as witchcraft — for instance shamanism with its use of medicinal plants and connection to the spirit world.
Clearly, these demeaning caricatures serve a social purpose — to keep women in their place. To signal to older women that their time is done, that they are sexually obsolete, and that they should be cast aside. There has been a recent reclaim of the term witch, as a reminder that their connection to nature and spirituality is a sign of female empowerment. But we’ve got a long way to go.
There are so many terms I could unpack — old bat, old bag, past her prime. Even little old lady is patronizing and, ironically enough, infantilizing. Cat Lady is a great example of a term the patriarchy intended to be derogatory but has since been rebranded. I’m assuming Dog Ladies are included here.
In Arabic, we call old women old shoes, and it’s not uncommon to hear someone say “you’ve let yourself go” as a reflection of our lack of self-maintenance (aka part of the normal aging process).
The common thread is this: we’re either young and beautiful, or we’re invisible. If we try to be visible, we’re mocked. We’re best-kept-hidden — or so society seems to think. We’re not seen, not valued, and — greatest crime of all — we’re not sexual. Older women are viewed as reproductively obsolete, and therefore denied the right to a healthy and pleasurable sex life. The only equivalent I can think of for men is silver fox, which not only has a positive connotation, but also oozes sexiness and dating marketability. Susan Sontag coined the term “The Double Standard of Aging” back in 1972 to highlight the fact that aging is only seen as a “problem” when it affects women. Meanwhile, aging enhances a man’s desirability — personally, professionally, romantically, sexually.
These myths and misconceptions are — to put it mildly — bullshit. But they persist. And they have concrete impacts — for instance discriminations in employment, healthcare, and social interactions. In the workplace, older women might be discriminated against because they are perceived as professionally obsolete. And they experience more significant pay drops as they age. American women over 60 earn 8% less than their highest payday while men over 60 only lose around 3%.
Women are also less likely to be covered by pension schemes than men. Around the world, the numbers are already abysmally low. Less than 40% of men and only 26% of women worldwide have this coverage. This number drops even further to 8% of women in lower-middle income countries.
Women over 65 are more likely to be impoverished than their male counterparts regardless of race, educational background, and marital status. 17% of women over 65 find themselves below the poverty line, and this number only increases with age. The fact that women tend to live longer than men paired with the ever-present wage gap means these women become more vulnerable as they age — their smaller savings must stretch farther.
And when it comes to healthcare, the gender gaps are enormous. For instance, women are six times more likely than men to be left by their (heterosexual) partners when diagnosed with a life-threatening or debilitating illness such as cancer. Older women obviously have higher rates of diagnosis. And, women are more likely to experience life threatening medical conditions. Don’t get me started about menopause. One day I’ll write a blog (or a book!) about menopause and the shameful lack of knowledge — or interest — on the part of health professionals and other (mostly male) humans.
Worst of all, as a self-proclaimed “old woman,” it is far too easy to internalize these stereotypes, swallowing the negativity and starting to believe it. How will we dismantle all this crap?!
Yes, there are some efforts to promote positive representation of aging women in media and popular culture. Women 50 and older are now no longer hiding the signs of their age, refusing to wear layers of makeup or undergo expensive procedures to retain their “youthful glow.” A movement to challenge this sexist ageism is underway. And it’s not just about physical appearance.
We need to showcase the positive aspects of aging and recognize — and celebrate — the contributions of older women. Society can also do better to avoid derogatory terms and outdated clichés.
And institutions must invest in our physical and mental health and wellbeing, including advocating for policies and services that promote our health and inclusion. Ignorance about aging women’s health and wellness is not acceptable.
Despite this, we exist in a patriarchal system where women’s value is largely determined by beauty and ability to bear children. Because emphasis is seldom placed on what a woman thinks, does, or experiences, the old adage “with age comes wisdom” doesn’t seem to apply to us.
And how many times have we been told to never ask a woman her age — as if it’s something to be ashamed of? How many times have we been told, as women, to stop frowning or smiling because, God forbid, it creates wrinkles? How many times has Leonardo DiCaprio dumped a woman simply because she turned 26? Too many times to list here.
Leonardo might be beyond help, but society can do a lot better to promote aging women’s wisdom and experience — and to support our quality of life in this next phase. There are many old woman stereotypes that we love, actually. The wise woman. The elder. The granny. The matriarch. These roles are all known for their knowledge and nurturing. The latter is my obvious favorite — finally a woman leader we acknowledge and respect!
Professionally, I’ve started to refer to myself as the Feminist Fairy Godmother. I no longer need to be on the frontlines, but I’ll do whatever I can to support those who are. This means advising and mentoring organizations and individuals to reach their social change goals. Using my old-lady-wisdom for good. I want to be there on the sidelines cheering while the younger generation wins the hard-fought and long-overdue fight for women’s equality.
This, along with other feminist interpretations of aging women, means we’re finally in a position to celebrate what we bring to society and to challenge the idea that we’re no longer productive simply because we’re not reproductive. A feminist reclaim also takes into account our intersectional experiences — including race, class, sexuality, disability, and other identity markers that hold meaning for us. We can redefine power and claim our leadership from home-office to public-office. And we can redefine beauty standards not to conform to the male gaze, but to please ourselves. Because we are beautiful — and maybe the world should start paying attention.
Challenging ageism is part of our work to dismantle oppressive systems and build a better world for women, one where we are all valued, respected, and empowered to live full and meaningful lives.
I could end here, but there’s one more word. Spinster. Much can be said about the fascinating etymological journey of this word, but the brief backstory is this: the label started in the late Middle Ages (around the 1300s) to refer to a woman who — literally — spins thread or yarn. Being a spinster was a common occupation at that time, and probably one of the few socially acceptable jobs. It was particularly common among unmarried women.
Back in those days, it was standard practice to use our occupations as our last names. So, “Smith” or “Baker” or whatever for men led to “Spinster” being used as a legal last name for women. (Following this curious structure, I’d be Lina Feminist? Unlikely that this was a common occupation of that time.)
By the 17th century, spinster was used in legal contexts to mean unmarried woman, whether she actually spun stuff or not. In the 18th century, the term became synonymous with old maid, meaning not just unmarried but also undesired.
Of course we’re not having any of this today. There is a movement to reclaim this word — along with bitch, slut, witch, whatever other labels we’ve been given over the centuries. The modern-day spinster is independent and self-sufficient. She has full agency over her body and life, and exercises that autonomy over her romantic choices as well. She chooses personal fulfillment above all else, defying social expectations to marry, and challenging the stigma associated with being unmarried. Because, shockingly, a woman’s worth should never be tied to a dude.
To me, being a spinster represents freedom and the ability to define my life on my own terms. And now that I’m 50 — tomorrow! — I’m officially adopting the label.
Labels aside, there’s gratitude in having made it this far. We too often forget that aging is a privilege denied to too many around the world. I think of my sisters in Palestine, Lebanon, Sudan, and so many places where simply surviving is an achievement — not to be taken for granted.
So I welcome this new decade with gratitude and grace — and hopefully a lot of spunk and fire — joining the army of gray-haired women taking over the Earth.
*For more snark from this spinster, head to www.LinaAbiRafeh.com and sign up to join the movement!
