Julie Gillis, on lust, bodies, aging and kindness.
My ankles hurt each morning when I rise out of bed. I’ve been running more and more, perhaps in an attempt to stave off age, so that I can keep eating my fill without worry, perhaps because I’ve always been active and I don’t want to stop. I’ve found tricks to help ease those aches, stretching my calves and rolling my feet prior to placing them on my cold wooden floor. Still, the first few steps of the day indicate some strain. Perhaps the beginnings of arthritis from years of overuse; days of 5th grade ballet class, jazz in high school and modern dance in college and beyond. I read my dancing life in my ankles and knees, I carry lessons in my wrists from piano, my mouth from oboe, my shoulders from carrying stress.
The body shows age. Think about that. The body quite literally shows us where we have been, what we have done. It shows in lines and scars, in aches and fatigue. The stories of our years on this planet are written on and in our bodies. We may try to avoid it, through surgeries, exfoliation, hormone enhancement or love affairs, but the words are indelible.
There was a post recently by Tom Matlack, called Is Male Lust Turning Us Inside Out. It garnered several hundred comments, many due in part to the opening paragraph referencing how a friend was discussing with Tom how pregnancy and childbirth ruined his wife’s breasts. There have been follow up posts to that article, including one by Marcus Williams, Even Wonderful Husbands Like Breasts, humorous and with great points.
I was one of many commentors who wrote much about the initiating statement of the friend and his wife, and his perhaps less than kind comment about her breasts. True, it could simply be because I’m a woman, have had children, and worry that my husband might not appreciate my body in it’s post partum state. But there was so much anxiety produced in both male and female comments. So charged and so effective in lighting up sparks of fear in many women readers. So much defensiveness from men. From both, actually. What was the fear? Was it really that male lust, out in the open, is that threatening? Or was it the totality of the statement, the particular callousness of it?
This article was inspired in part by those comments, but it is not a complaint on Tom’s piece, nor a polemic about the state of male lust. Not at all. I’ve thought about this long and hard as a woman who is a fan of lust, desire, and men. As a woman who has had a more alternative marriage than some, and as a woman who is favor of honest conversations with the men in my life, I think my reaction was due to the casual unkindness of the initial statement about breasts and ruination. My reaction is not, “Don’t lust.” It’s, “Be kind to me and my aging body while you lust for others, and I will be kind to you and yours, as my own eyes pause on younger flesh.”
♦◊♦
Ruined. Ruin. Ruins. This word has been ringing in my head.
Her breasts were ruined. Ruined? Are mine? Are my hips (wider than in past years) or my stomach (not stretch-marked but a bit looser due to pregnancy), or my feet (once a petite 7, now an 8 or 8.5 depending on the shoe) are they ruined? Or are they just written upon by life. By the stories of being young, of aging, of producing children. Of pain, of joy, of conception and labor, of strain and challenge. I can look at my body and read those histories.
On my own breasts, I imagine written poems of waiting, waiting, tears while waiting for them to grow, of furtive teenage petting, of pleasure and hope with new lovers, with annoyance at monthly swelling and pain. Words of cooing, of tolerance for a baby’s unskilled latch, of sharp pain at cracked nipples, of “I love you’s given by a baby’s gentle pat on my flesh, giggling as milk spilt from his mouth.
This mark, here a poem of shock at the capacity for milk production, of a glorious spray of nutrients. I can see right here in this curve a story of sadness when that time of nursing was over. In this area, flatter than before, darker, I can see the present, the result of the past. And my life is not finished. There are more stories to be written on my breasts, on my body, in my being.
My husband’s body too, is covered in poetry, in heartbreak, stoicism, knees that hurt, hair that is different than in his younger years. A crease under his eye, from focus on a dissertation, muscles that have strengthened in places, lessened in others. Can I look on those poems with desire? Yes, I can. I can read our 18 years together, and wonder about the years before. He can tell me stories about those years. I can read the poems on his body. He can read mine.
Can I see the difference between my body and one of a 25 year old nubile girl? Well, of course. She’s at the beginning and I’m at the middle. Can I accept that when his eyes cross her body that he’ll experience something perhaps different than when his body reads mine? Yes, I can, and he knows I’ll appreciate the beauty of younger men as well. Nothing wrong with having that out in the open.
♦◊♦
But what about kindness? Where did that callousness in that original statement come from? Was it simply a short cut of words between friends? Words mean things. What we say out loud is how we see the world. The comments responding to that statement, filled with anxiety, fear and defensiveness…is there a deeper fear underneath them? All of us worried we are ruined or will be, men and women alike, gay and straight, as we age? About worrying we’ll be irrelevant, impotent, disregarded for sagging breasts, thinning hair, or growing guts?
By accident, I ran across this gorgeous post from written by Curtis Smith, Decline, which truly sealed my desire to write this piece today. Though I fight it with morning runs, face creams and sexy shoes, I know in my heart that our bodies are meant to be ruined from living life, meant to decline like temples first proud and shining, into ruins of achy bones and weathered skin.
♦◊♦
It’s quite fair to say that we lust and desire the young, both men and women, because they are beautiful. But isn’t it possible that that desire for them is also because they show us where we have already been? We already know we’ve written those stories, but still we’d like more, just a little bit more
Our ruined bodies remind each other, partner to partner, that we are not new anymore. This is hard, but it is also beautiful. We will wear our stories on our ruined bodies and those stories are who we are. They are poems, lead us from birth to death, and they are holy, all of them, like an epic poem, like Homer’s Odyssey. All I want is kindness along the way while the poems are written.
–
photo by mindaugasdanys / Flickr
About Julie Gillis
Very lovely, a beautiful response. I understand, and appreciate this piece, and it makes me treasure where my body has been. Makes me remember that my youth is lovely, but not all of me, and I am not lovely merely because of it.
Thank you.
Lovely. Thank you for this – such a gift to a world in such need of a realistic and loving appreciation of real lives and real bodies (especially women’s). You write beautifully, too. This was a wonderful piece.
Every body has been a hero. And is.
I love the way you wrote this, and really hope that I can one day I can accept the things you say here. However, for years I have felt the need to constantly make myself physically appealing to men, because I know its really, really important to men, something I can never keep up with. What are women supposed to do when they feel like they are doing so much to look sexy, work hard in relationships, be independent, get an education, etc. and it’s still not enough? The fact that men will someday not look at me like they look at me now is frightening.
in other words, I agree with what Marcus Williams mentioned in one of his articles, that some women would rather die than be unattractive.
It is frightening. And I suspect it’s frightening for them too. Does anyone in our culture want to get old? I”m 42 and I have children and a dying mother. I can literally see behind me to where I’ve been and in front of me to where I might wind up. Trying to manage beauty and looks within that particular existential place seems ridiculous to me, but there it is.
I suppose all of us have to get to a place where it matters more how we look at ourselves, but that’s the trick isn’t it?
FTR, yes. I love getting older. I’ll be 39 this December.
I know no one wants to get old, but its so hard to accept when I know just how much attractiveness matters to men. I’m 23 and I feel as though life can only get worse because of this
I don’t think that’s true unless you only associate with people who value you based on externals. You have to value yourself for all of you, Jessica, and you have find people to love and be loved by who have similar values about relationships. Men are not all one way, nor are women.
Sorry I didn’t mean to generalize about men..it’s just the ones I’ve interacted with, or maybe, I am the real problem, not them. I just would like to meet men and have thoughtful conversations about cooking, politics, etc. and REALLY get to know someone on a spiritual and emotional level; I’ve heard how wonderful it feels.
I find women get rated for their beauty, men get rated for their profession. Women strive hard to be beautiful whilst men strive hard to have money/resources/power to be sexy to women. It’s simply a progression from our caveman/woman era. Now we have the addition of the gaze men get from women, how both men and women are objectified for their bodies (male muscles/cut figure). Insecurity in both genders is quite high, men just suck at letting people know but if you watch them, especially the new youth and the protein powder gym junkie craze….you’ll see it clear as day. Overweight and smallfigured males are very insecure and eating disorders are on the rise. This generation so in love with airbrushed bodies, super cut bodies, photoshopped breasts or muscles needs a wakeup call.
Hey, I’m 44 and the realization is setting in that it doesn’t get any better…
My mother and mother-in-law and step-father inspire me, however. Both women are very active, as is the old man, now in his 80s and still going strong.
I do not intend to go graciously into the night, but plan to go kicking and screaming like a motherfucker.
Thaddeus, it is extremely insulting to see such a horrible word, deeply disrespecting all mothers in the world, right alongside stating how you also honor your own. This is a common disconnection that women have to face everyday. Language matters!
Such a great piece, Julie. Do you know this poem by Jeanetta Calhoun Mish?
Mapping Desire
“i look like a roadmap,” he says,
intending, i suppose, to deflect
any unrealistic expectations of
the power of passing time on
a face i haven’t touched in years
but he is forgetting
how i love a road trip
sometimes screaming down the freeway
at 2 am, the bass thumping in the speakers
like the pounding of my heart
most often, though, i like to
take the side roads
roll the windows down
inhale the sweet smells
sheltered under the arching
bowers of trees linked
together like fingers of two hands
spanning what separates them
i like to slide into
a roadhouse on the county line
have a beer, some barbecue and
a slowdance to the blues
then unfold my beloved roadmap
run my finger along a chosen course
imagine all the s-turns and heaves
glory in the forgotten lanes
and remember that the end
of one journey is the
beginning of another
That’s simply perfect, Hugo. Exactly right.
Allow me to add my thank-you too, Hugo. I will copy and paste onto my desktop.
Hugo. May I share this poem?
Thanks for this piece Julie. Beautifully told!
I am seldom speechless, but this is too beautiful for words. Thank you for your frank statement that I’m sure has resonated with many people, both men and women.
There is a touching monologue in “Talking With,” a play by Jane Martin, that came to mind when I read this.
Oh Julie, I am crying. I have thought about Tom’s piece, and Marcus’s piece, and I read all of your comments. I only added a couple of my own. The whole thing just felt so devastating to me. I’ve talked to my husband a lot about it, and have thought about it off and on for days. I dwell on the same things you do. There are so many platitudes about beauty, and I don’t need to write them. In middle age, I feel I am so much happier, so much wiser, and so much deeper as a human being, and my sex life has never been better, ruined breasts and all. When I encounter the shallowness of a wife’s breasts, changed by the beauty and sacrifice of giving birth and nursing a child, being a barrier to her husband within a loving relationship, I could weep. It’s not about whether the man should dump the wife (so she can find someone less shallow) or cheat on her (so he can assuage his lust), it is about something so much more important–about how can this man, or any man with similar views, learn to see things more wholly, with more compassion, with more integrity, and from a place rooted in love and respect? I love The Good Men Project. I am a proud contributor. I feel this site does very, very good things in the world. But I get depressed and disillusioned when I read articles and comment threads that I feel don’t really get at the deeper nature of a problem. Personal growth as we age should be a goal. We are not teenagers, and arrested adolescence seems to be a huge problem for both men and women in this country. Our media focus and collective obsession about the outside over the inside is truly epic at this point. I would love to see more thoughtful articles, and more thoughtful comments, addressing how we can both be open about lust, but also emphasize the emotional growth that needs to accompany the aging process, which is inevitable for all of us. Without that, there is so much unhappiness. Julie, thank you for taking it on. I hope the thread stays positive and productive.
We all see attractive people in our daily activities, such as at work, shopping, TV, Internet, wherever. That’s unavoidable.
However, IMO, we can unnecessarily create negative comparisons and dissatisaction to constantly, continuously, habitually, and actively seek such out. Going to strip clubs is an example of that. Again, IMO.
However, this issue is not limited to just visual appeal. It could be anything, such as other men/women’s romantic nature or habits (real or made-up), or whatever else we might feel is missing in our relationship. That too can create disastisfaction which might not otherwise exist, at least to that extent.
So, women are on the hook here just the same, except men tend to react differently to being compared negatively in harsh terms.
Meant to say: “However, IMO, we can unnecessarily create negative comparisons and dissatisaction BY constantly, continuously, habitually, and actively seek such out.”
SeekING such out. Sorry.
Great comments Eric. Thanks.
I think it’s all quite complicated, for men and women both. Part of it for me is setting our own expectations for marriage and long term relationships in a way that allows for foilbles, failures, and change in our partners. I mean, it’s ok if you and your spouse have some kind of agreement that no one will let themselves go, get sick, or lose jobs. But what happens if you fail that agreement?
I think what happens is, those expectations of physical hotness, or spousal earning potential are subconscious or just slightly unconscious narratives we have learned and hold internally.
“I’m entitled to get to stay home with the kids while he earns.” “I’m entitled to a hot wife.”
I’m not saying everyone thinks that, but some of our standard western marital tropes break down along those lines. What is a “good match?” Beauty, a strong man with earning potential, kids.
But what happens when beauty goes? Or jobs get lost? Or worse?
When the expectations fail and the agreements get broken, especially if we haven’t verbalized them and made them explicit, then there is a deep cognitive dissonance, conflict, divorce, confusion.
If a woman loses her beauty after childrearing, stays home with the kids and isn’t the partner the man wants, and he leaves her….and she in anger and sadness, fights him for custody and alimony, haven’t we just set up more of those narratives that “men want this and are terrible” and “women want this and are terrible?”
I think its more important to identify the stories that live inside us and drive us, decide if they are the stories we really want to live by and then chose new ones (marrying for love, polyamory, celibacy, men staying home with kids, both working, accepting aging etc etc) if they suit us more.
Hard to buck those internal narratives, but I’d rather examine them and choose how my partner and I are going to change as we age and as our lives inevitably alter.
Should the fact that I have probably shortened my life by working hard for years to provide a comfortable life for my wife mean that I no longer need to try to court her with flowers, surprises, nice trips, etc., just as I did before we got married?
Should the fact that she has born me two beautiful babies mean that she shouldn’t try her best to look good for me anymore?
Its a fascinating phenomenon that many women work far harder to look good and even a little sexy when they are planning to leave their husbands for work, shopping, or elsewhere than they do when at home with him.
That is like a man sending flowers and gifts to his female coworkers far more often than his wife. What would that say about his feelings about her?
Interesting. Let’s see. I think that *both* husbands and wives should do nice little surprises for each other, whether they work outside the home or inside it. I think *both* should try to look nice for each other sometimes, and *both* should be able to relax about their looks a lot of the time within a loving, committed, stable relationship. Studies show that many women spend more money on beauty products than they do on their kids’ tuition, and as Lisa Hickey wrote so eloquently in her post about being addicted to beauty, many women spend ungodly amounts of time on it, especially as they age. It’s so nice when husbands and wives dress up for each other and try to look their best, especially for a nice dinner out, etc. It surely should go both ways. It’s also nice for women when their husbands love the way they look without make-up! I have a hard time believing it, but when my husband tells me I look beautiful just natural, it is such a relief. I can’t even explain how much of a relief it is. This does not mean I think wives should “let themselves go” and go around in sweat pants all the time and gain 100 pounds. I agree with your last paragraph. I actually hear a lot of men complain about this, and I can see how that would bother them. So, yes, it’s nice if *both* husbands and wives do nice things for each other, dress up for each other, and also let each other relax much of the time and find each other attractive without a lot of money and fuss, appreciating that sexy in the in brain, and the smile, and the caring gestures too.
What you fail to see is that–it feels good to look good when you go out. It really does. I know my partner finds me hot in whatever I wear–which is why, here I am on a Saturday afternoon typing on my computer with pajama pants, topless (no bra), and with a half-assed pony-tail. If I were to go out, yeah, I’d get my shit together–I’d put on makeup, jewelry, a cute skirt, pump up my cleavage, etc. Would you put on a tie for your wife on a lazy Sunday while eating breakfast? I know my partner finds me sexy in whatever I wear. He has sex with me with my morning breath and smudged makeup. I see him day in and day out and have nothing to prove to him–he’s seen me at my best and at my worst. When we’re going to a dinner party or I’m meeting people that I only see once a month at most–yes, I want to look my best. If I haven’t seen my girl (or guy) friend for a while and want to show off my new wardrobe, or want to feel sexy walking down the street in my heels and cute autumn jacket, I’m going to do it. So shoot me. If my husband is one of those types who likes to please people and hand out cookies or flowers on a weekly basis, I have to respect it. It’s a little cheesy, but he’s doing something he enjoys and feels good about it. Good for him. I’m allowed to feel hot about myself in public while feeling comfortable in my own home. He’s allowed to arrange flowers or bake for his coworkers if it makes him feel good–just don’t take it any further than that.
Expectations, yes? Are we open about them or do we assume them and then get disappointed when they aren’t met?
If an expectation is that you keep getting gifts or you keep looking sexy, why not talk about it?
One of the joys of having a long term partner, in my opinion, is that I don’t have to always put on a front for him. I can be real, he can be real. I have to put on my work drag, my show clothes, as does he. Sometimes you just want to be unvarnished.
Which is different than not keeping clean, healthy, groomed etc.
“If an expectation is that you keep getting gifts or you keep looking sexy, why not talk about it?”
I’ve been told by a number of wives, including my own, that you aren’t supposed to have to ask for flowers. It should be because you were thinking of her and simply wanted to do it to make her feel special.
@Aya:
“What you fail to see is that–it feels good to look good when you go out. It really does.”
No doubt. That’s obvious. That was my point. This shows that the pressure to look good and young that many claim to feel here is not exclusively or even mainly from their husbands. Evidently, it’s primarily based on a desire to be attractive to men (and/or women) in general.
“Would you put on a tie for your wife on a lazy Sunday while eating breakfast?”
I don’t wear business attire at home but my grooming routine is identical whether I’m going out or staying in. For example, I always shave and groom my moustache and goatee (when I’m wearing it). I cut my own hair about once a week so that I never appear to “need a haircut.” I don’t only wear cologne when going out.
I would personally never say the pressure only comes from my partner, or previous boyfriends, or even short term ex lovers. I freely admit that it comes just as much from women and from school and work. I do appreciate that you groom on a regular basis. I personally don’t expect my partner–I like the smell of his sweat–a lot, and I find a little bit of ungroomed fuzz adorable. He can fart around me and urinate with the door open, and I think it’s cute (yeah, we have *that* kind of relationship). I want to look nice for him too, sure. I also know he’d rather sometimes just spend time with me than have me go through eye shadow, eyeliner, lotions, hair straitening, eyebrow waxes, nairing everywhere, wearing heels, putting on jewelry, coordinating an outfit, wearing perfume that he doesn’t like as much as he likes the smell of my body, manicures, pedicures, lip gloss that’ll stain his lips anyways, hair dye that doesn’t actually change my hair color, just ‘enhances’ it, the creepy looking eyelash curler thingy, bronzers …etc. I know I’m beautiful without these things and he finds me so as well–I just feel more comfortable and confident when I go out in public with them. It doesn’t mean I disrespect him. It just means that I want to put my best foot forward (if I have the time) when I’m with our friends or out in public–with or without him.
Wow Julie. Wow wow wow. You know that beauty and aging are subjects near and dear to my heart, and you have articulated the issues so beautifully, gracefully, with power and leadership. Like one of the other commenters, I am left speechless beyond that. Thank you.
Thank you Lisa, I appreciate your words very much.
Julie,
I love your response. The essay begged polarization which may be more flamboyant and fun but your truth is poignant and spot on. As women who love men who are visual beings first, yes, we are sensitive to their appraisal. As a generation of women who grew up torn under the dualities of being feminine it isn’t a surprise that we have a conflicted relationship with aging.
Youth and fertility and the full ripeness of life is an eternal beauty and one we will always remember with fondness and melancholy. I hope it is not just convenient that I am beginning to see, as you say, poetry and grace in aging bodies, in lines, and in thinning skin.
I think mid-life is an physical beauty term and merely the adolescence of a deeply fundamental wisdom and inner grace. I think that our real essence is illuminated in fine lines and thinning skin. Not sexual in a fertile sense, but sexual none the less in what can be a shedding of self-consciousness, shared laughter and delight in the perfection of the flaws.
I am saddened when I see women who plump and poison, thickening and immobilizing their thinning skin. Youth is not just in the full lips, porcelain skin and thick hair. It is in the subtleties, the walk, the hip to waist ratio, the curve of the shoulder, the readiness of the muscles and the naivete in the eye. You cannot get it all back and half way leaves you in the a freaky no man’s land. Literally. Think how lonely that must be.
Thought you might appreciate this image, here, Julie…
http://resistinginertia.tumblr.com/post/11046750595/carlovely-punk-isnt-dead-it-just-goes-to-bed
Ha! I love that!!!
I can say it really spoke to ME.
I’m an ex-punk, right at that age.
Julie…this is beautiful. Words DO have meaning. They make humans unique. It’s not too much to ask to respect each other as we age, even when lust for others is involved. It’s even less to ask for respect from someone you love and who loves you. My now perfect tits will change–it’s inevitable. My partner has always looked at and commented on other ones, and I know that as we age, he’ll think fondly of the ones I have now. They’ll change, they’ll show a part of the story of my life (whether that story involves kids, weight gain/loss, cancer, or plastic surgery)–but they’ll never be ‘ruined.’
“So charged and so effective in lighting up sparks of fear in many women readers. So much defensiveness from men. From both, actually. What was the fear? Was it really that male lust, out in the open, is that threatening? Or was it the totality of the statement, the particular callousness of it?”
“My reaction is not, “Don’t lust.” It’s, “Be kind to me and my aging body while you lust for others, and I will be kind to you and yours, as my own eyes pause on younger flesh.””
Thank you for this.
Oh Julie! How fantastic!
Absolutely beautiful. Thank you for writing this piece.
Thank you, Julie. This piece is truly wonderful.
I find that my eyes linger more on people closer to my own age (53) outside my marriage than they do on those I tend to think of as “kids,” & my wife’s the same way. A “flawless” body is an unused one, with no stories. Show me someone who has lived to tell the tale, as it were, and does it with joy and style. That society wants us to think that such a person is “ruined” in any way is tragic. Does it really take the conscious application of “kindness” to appreciate storms well-weathered?