Each week, exclusively for Slate Plus members, Prudie discusses a new letter with a fellow Slate colleague. Have a question for Prudie? Submit it here.
Dear Prudence,
All my life I’ve been beautiful. I admit this has worked to my advantage. When I was younger, I was a model and had a chance to travel to many different places and make money. I’ve had teachers be lenient with my grades, better career opportunities than other people, my pick of boyfriends, you name it. I know this is a privilege. The problem is I’m 46, and as I’m aging. I’ve found my good looks are fading. I find myself panicked when I look in the mirror. I guess for me one of the terrifying elements is that I have realized how all those advantages I once had are disappearing. My privilege is vanishing. That’s really scary. I can feel it at my job and in everyday life.
The other thing is that I’m used to being Beautiful Betty. I find it hard to imagine a life where I’m just Ordinary Betty. Or even Ugly. I’ve considered having plastic surgery, but then I see the faces of celebrities that have had work done and they look so plastic. I also know that logically nothing can stop the passage of time. How can I feel better about myself as I enter this new phase of my life and accept that I’m growing older and can’t look the same forever?
—Pretty Confused
Jenée Desmond-Harris: When my grandmother was in her nineties, one of her neighbors who was about the same age was nicknamed “Ms. America” because she would roll her platinum blonde hair every night, take it down every morning, and apply a full face of makeup to sit on her bed and watch TV. The whole friend group talked endlessly about how beautiful she was! I say that to say, all is not lost. Beauty is relative. You can still be the hottest person in your age group. Or even start hanging out with older people to make yourself feel better!
But I guess that probably doesn’t get to the core of the issue here. Right, Lizzie?
Lizzie O’Leary: I think the core of the issue is both privilege and shame! I may not know what it’s like to be startlingly hot, but I am 50, and I absolutely know the feeling of suddenly feeling, if not quite invisible, quickly heading that way. Welcome to middle age! And yeah, it’s scary, because you realize how much of your value, especially as a woman, was based on your looks. It’s pretty staggering, and it might make you feel ashamed, both of having Pretty Privilege, and how much it hurts to lose it.
And I have found middle age both upsetting and motivating. Motivating in that it pushes you to think about who you are and what you want, not just how you look (and how society sees you). One of my favorite newsletters is written by a 70-something longtime beauty editor, Val Monroe, and it’s called How to Not F*ck Up Your Face. She has an exercise in which you spend some time looking in the mirror, and repeat to yourself all the things you love about your face. It’s about learning to see who you are with grace and compassion. And I think that’s what our LW needs to do.
Jenée: I think you recommended that newsletter to me when I was begging you for advice on how to keep my skin from feeling like a potato chip after moving to a place with real winter and all of its accompanying indignities (Sorry I resisted CeraVe for four months because the packaging didn’t excite me).
Anyway, I really feel for this woman. And I know that “Just change your brain and have healthier thoughts” is easier said than done. The mirror exercises could really help. My other advice—and this is for anyone who has a hangup about any aspect of their appearance—is to clear your social media feed and start following people who look similar but also look cool, stylish, happy and fun. I think that can get into your subconscious in a powerful way.
Lizzie: Yeah, totally! As you know, I had a baby at 44, so my feed is sort of hilariously divided between “how to deal with your child’s big feelings” and “put estrogen on your face because you’re old.” But I have made a concerted effort to rid myself of anyone who makes me feel shitty about my face and it’s great. I’m a big fan of a dermatologist called Ellen Gendler who is extremely no BS and looks like a normal person.
But also? I think one of the best remedies for these kinds of negative feelings about oneself can be acting outside oneself. Can you … volunteer? Make regular visits to a senior living center? Help out a food pantry? It can be very easy to get sucked into the endless hamster wheel of the self, and I think focusing on acts of service can really help turn that energy outwards. I know that might seem a bit far afield, but when I am feeling too angsty about myself, I find redirecting that energy outward is a great gift.
And may I just add something? I had cancer two years ago. And I would be lying if I said it made me stop thinking about how I look (it didn’t, I have issues with my own face all the time). But it DID make me think hard about what to do with the time I have left on this earth. And one of those things, my dear LW, was to put my energy into things that pay off in human connection. It’s a great balm. Because you are so much more than what you look like.
Jenée: I think that’s amazing advice. And maybe, first, there’s a place for some mourning (privately, in a journal, because unfortunately nobody wants to hear about this particular struggle) and maybe even a celebration of the years you spent fitting society’s beauty standards and enjoying all the benefits that came with that. Print the photos! Make an album! Make sure your kids and future grandkids know that you were absolutely gorgeous. Then really try Lizzie’s techniques to pull yourself out of navel gazing about this issue. While you might not have people tripping all over themselves to give you attention anymore, you are who you are because of the work you’ve done and the travel you experienced and the relationships you’ve built. Your beauty contributed to the life you have. And it would be a shame if you didn’t enjoy that life now.