Shedding Your Skin and Turning 60

Yesterday I turned 60 and I was wary, waiting for the sudden despair of age to drag me into its depths, the misery of youth having flown and death coming closer.

It never happened. In fact, I spent most of the day giddy and delighted. Joyful to be alive, blessed to be loved and accepted and feeling creative and vital.

Sixty is when I realized that I really am out of fucks to give.

Sixty is when I accepted that the white men on this earth are not my allies, younger women are not my models and I have lived a life full of despair that has afforded me this life full of joy. Sixty is feeling marvelous (except for my knees which need replacement, like, yesterday).

Things I realized: as I celebrated with family and friends, I saw how the women all brought energy and awareness to the celebration, bringing the food and gifts to nourish me (emotionally and literally) and the men sat back and brought nothing. They ate the food, hadn't helped in choosing gifts and didn't lift a finger to clean up afterwards.

Women brought the effort, the emotional care and the pleasure.

On my birthday when Dr. Christine Blasey Ford relived the trauma of her sexual assault in front of a room of old white men and showed courage, committment and more love of this system than any of them will ever know, I knew, as did everyone, that their choices would not change but the women in this world would. ME TOO is no longer a catch phrase to say we've been hurt, it's the words to start a revolution.

I was raised to try and please others. Look pretty, speak softly, let go of anger. And I never understood why I couldn't be that womam. I'm loud. I'm not pretty. And I've spent my life furious as person after person has told me that anger is holding me back.

Not any more, bitches. I'm SIXTY fucking years old and my anger is righteous. My fury is fire and beauty and LOUD AS FUCK! You don't like it well that's a shame for you because this old woman is out of fucks to give, out of politeness and out of sweet. These are my honest years now. This is when I finally don't care about being liked.

Men have touched us, fucked us and made us apologize for our tears. Other women try to quiet us because we make them feel uncomfortable for having loud voices. No more whispers.

That polite skin is shed and I'm ready to slither into the world with my teeth exposed, my venom dripping and motherfuckers, you better hide because this woman just doesn't give a damn anymore.

Welcome to the revolution, fuckers.