Helen Walmsley-Johnson - The Invisible Woman: Taking on the Vintage Years

The

Invisible
Women

The

Invisible
Women

HELEN
WALMSLEY-JOHNSON

Published in the UK in 2015 by

Icon Books Ltd, Omnibus Business Centre,

3941 North Road, London N7 9DP

email:

www.iconbooks.com

Sold in the UK, Europe and Asia

by Faber & Faber Ltd, Bloomsbury House,

7477 Great Russell Street,

London WC1B 3DA or their agents

Distributed in the UK, Europe and Asia

by TBS Ltd, TBS Distribution Centre, Colchester Road,

Frating Green, Colchester CO7 7DW

Distributed in Australia and New Zealand

by Allen & Unwin Pty Ltd,

PO Box 8500, 83 Alexander Street,

Crows Nest, NSW 2065

Distributed in South Africa by

Jonathan Ball, Office B4, The District,

41 Sir Lowry Road, Woodstock 7925

Distributed in India by Penguin Books India,

7th Floor, Infinity Tower C, DLF Cyber City,

Gurgaon 122002, Haryana

ISBN: 978-184831-844-1

Text copyright 2015 Helen Walmsley-Johnson

The author has asserted her moral rights.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any

means, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

Typeset in Janson Text by Marie Doherty

Printed and bound in the UK

by Clays Ltd, St Ives plc

Introduction

Old age is no place for sissies

BETTE DAVIS

T his is a book about ageing. Specifically it is a book about women and late middle age. I am middle-aged (there, I said it) and since youre reading this, I suspect you might be too. If Im truthful, I was mostly through my middle age and out the other side before I even accepted that I was middle-aged. In this you and I may find we have a certain amount in common. You perhaps also share my frustration at the general lack of information, the attitudes of the media (mainly) and others (generally), and at the way we are portrayed all of which add to a slight feeling of unease, which begins to make itself part of everyday life. A faint sense of dread at the onset of middle age is entirely understandable, although wed probably be better to call it what it is fear. Fear that life as we know it is over, fear for the future and fear of the unknown. Middle age has become the uncharted grey bit on lifes map, the terra incognita wasteland we must navigate before we can get on with being properly old. When were old we hope well know who and what we are; the bit that gets us there is much harder to determine.

Let me start with a question or two. Would you place yourself with the drag me kicking and screaming into retirement middle agers, or are you one of the thank God thats all over and I can put my feet up for a bit group? Or perhaps youre one of the women who at some point in the last decade wandered unintentionally up an economic cul-de-sac and spend days and nights wringing their hands and worrying about how theyre going to struggle through to the relative security of a state pension.

Theres a lot of noise made by the Middle Age Resistance. Theyre the ones tearing about with their sports cars and motorbikes, the ones flouting every age-conscious style rule in the book; theyre the ones who backpack around the world on their childrens inheritance and pop up on your telly and in your newspapers pulling, God help us, wacky stunts; theyre the rowdy groovers at Glastonbury having loud thrice-nightly sex under canvas; theyre the ones who resist, resist, resist and vow to go down in a blaze of glory shouting, Look at me nothing middle-aged here! Meanwhile the accepters are quietly, and perhaps a tad smugly, getting on with kicking back, shooting the breeze and being, well, middle-aged but in the more conventional sense as we are given to understand it, comfortably cocooned in their mortgage-free, pension-savvy world with the drawbridge firmly up (Crisis? What crisis?) and accepting this latest life stage with equanimity and quiet resignation. Apparently.

Why is this age group presented as polar opposites, aggressively divided on the right and wrong ways to grow older? What of the ones who have no option but to grit their teeth and get on with life as they always have but find the age cards stacked against them? Why does the media always depict the middle-aged gilded with comfortable privilege? Isnt there a case for a fresh look at middle age? There is growing interest in this further transitional phase of life and it provides us with an opportunity to position it as something more interesting, less frightening and as something concerned not with loss but with gain; a chance to redraw outdated concepts of beauty; to appreciate wisdom and experience; as a more comfortable mix of resisting the depredations of an ageing mind and body while also gracefully accepting and embracing the inevitability of it? There is a case to be made for preparing for middle age physically, mentally and financially and, during middle age, preparing for the old age that will follow if were lucky.

Even the Oxford English Dictionary herds middle agers together with a definition of the period of life between young adulthood and old age, now usually regarded as between 45 and 60 a stark definition of fifteen years that feels like quite a stretch; theres a huge physical and psychological difference between a 45-year-old and a 60-year-old; just as there is between a 20-year-old and a 35-year-old at the other end of the age spectrum. Its simply not helpful to lump the whole group together.

In any case, I doubt many 45-year-olds think of themselves as middle-aged, I know I didnt. Nor did I wake up one morning and think here it is. Middle age arrived in me roughly five years later than the OED definition like puberty, with spurts, longueurs and occasional tears. At times I would be completely, stormily, at sea while at others I felt in an odd state of languid, drifting suspension. I would describe where I am now as battle-weary contentment. Contentment is a word not much heard in relation to middle age and Ive had to find my way through a fair few dense thickets of self-doubt, melting confidence and spitting rage at a world that wont fight with me to achieve it.

I wonder if any other age group is subjected to quite so much ill-defined and random generalisation. Take the popular misconception that, say by 50, you will have achieved what youre going to achieve you will have had your shot at life, your best is behind you and now its time to accept that you should drift quietly and without fuss or protest towards retirement. That is what were told and, whatever we ourselves believe, theres a large chunk of society who do indeed think that by the time were 50 we middle agers have zipped up the well-lit motorway of earlier life, bounced over the junction at the top and are now at least halfway down the B-road on the other side with no brakes, no lights, bad eyesight and a shaky grip on the steering wheel. Do I accept that? No, absolutely not. To continue the metaphor, Im doing my damnedest to stay right there on the road, but Im also adjusting my speed to take into account the age of my engine and bodywork.

The young-ist culture of television, radio and the rest of the media has, for the most part, already consigned middle agers to a life less interesting and a road less travelled. What arrogance to prematurely chivvy us off into a routine of afternoon naps and daytime television! Speaking for myself and while admitting to a slight fondness for a post-prandial snooze Im still working my socks off. We, the middle-aged, have so much to offer. We must assert our right to make plans, be heard, have interesting, useful lives. Historically middle and old age is when one generation passes its wisdom on to the next a useful and admirable tradition worth perpetuating if only we could regain our lost voice. We should not allow our opinions and experience to be dismissed, however benignly, and we should not allow ourselves to be ignored. We should decide for ourselves what we want to do and when we want to do it, and we should fight to restore dignity and usefulness to this forgotten age. Isnt that just as important as the right to have pink hair, wear Doc Martens or ride a Harley Davidson? I do not accept this writing off. I do not accept invisibility.