It's happened

I know we get confronted by reality in our mirrors every day, but we can buffer the pain by (a) walking  away from the mirror (b) telling ourselves we look this shite as it's early in the morning or (c) layering on some makeup to lessen the ravages of time.  My preference is for a little of each.

But sometimes, when you've left the safety of your home and you're out there exposed in the world, you can get slapped with reality with no defences to soften the blow.  And this happened to me.

I was just having a bit of a ho hum kind of Sunday, stuck at home surrounded by jobs to do, homework to nag about.  In a fit of pique and deciding that although cricket is something we all enjoy, I'd rather go on some "important errands" than head to the nets with the family.  So with no thought of what I looked like (crap and middle aged), I headed to the busy'ness of Manly on an unseasonally stunning day. (Seriously Winter, I wouldn't mind one good burst of cold weather just once this year!).

I was looking for a squishy hat to take away with me to the Outback this week (yes, I know, more on that later).   It seems every time we travel I squash my solid'ish nice hats into bags and they never, ever revert back to their original shape.  I have a collection of squished unwearable hats, so I thought I'd be sensible.

Manly is a jam packed full of surf shop, name a label and it's there.  Perfect I thought.  So I started trawling the shops.  Hat shopping is not something you need help with.  It's a simple case of point me in the direction of the soft squishy hats, a mirror, then get back to the counter and continue texting, thanks, I'll be fine.

But one young barely teenage staff member took an interest in me, and kept thrusting hats in my direction.  She got me to try a hat on that I'd discounted because it made me look too middle aged and frumpy.  I tried it on "nah, not so keen on this", she kept insisting, and as it always happens with me, I started reconsidering.  If I pulled up the front flop bit, and put my mirror face on, it wasn't that bad.

"Do you like this one the best then?, I asked her.

"I do, it's more suited for mature people, that other hat is for younger women".

*Pause*

Did she just call me MATURE?  She DID.  She called me  MATURE! Have I crossed the line where I can't shop at surf shops unless it's for my kids or niece?  Am I MATURE????

With my mouth pursed like a cats bottom, I politely put the offending item down and walked out of the shop never to return again.

I've always promised myself that I would not expose my ledge of flesh in crop tops, nor wear high topped denim undies, and when the day comes that I should cut off the birds nest in my hair and get a sensible bob or "older ladies cut" then I would.  I will not be mutton dressed up like lamb.  But no waaay am I there yet.

It's ok to see the date on the calendar, to have that quiet shock in the sanctity of home, but it hurts more when Reality politely taps you on the shoulder in a busy surf shop on a sunny day.  I'm sorry Reality, but I am not yet ready to welcome you into my life.

Have you ever been confronted by your age or do you ignore it like me?

post script: That's not me in the photo in case you were wondering.  And age has absolutely nothing to do with that.