4/26/2012 DAY 1850 to men is 40 is to women. And I should know: I have been cutting and coloring women’s hair for over 30 years. In addition to how close and mind-melded a hairdresser becomes to his clients, I believe that not sleeping with women has given me a distinctly objective view of how they think.
When I have disclosed to my women clients that I was writing 50 Days of 50, all of them, from 40 years old on, rolled their eyes and brushed me off as if to say, “Whatever.” Without further contemplative thought, or vacillation in any way, these middle-aged, cougars, moms and grandmas “welcome me to the club” and then most of them follow-up their sarcasm with what really sucks: Turning 40 for a woman.
“Forty is the magic number when you realize that you’ll probably never have kids if you’ve not had them by now.”
“I realize that half of my life was devoted to other human beings and now I have to find myself again.”
“I thought love and marriage was forever. What a crock of shit.”
“I’ve defined myself by my relationships and I forgot to have career.”
“I’ve defined myself by my career and I forgot to have a relationship.”
“You realize that your face is going to sag and that you’d murder if it could help turn back time for that lady staring back at me in the mirror.”
Oh ladies, I love you, and I hear you loud and clear but ya’ll have a cruel streak. Sure, I have made it to 50 and I forgot to put having kids on the goal roster of my life. But I didn’t know it was going to be a regret–until now. Of course I had not devoted my life to career nor relationships–I’m a man–I kept my options open, and yet, unlike you, I’m praying that my 2 1/2 year relationship works out until death (because the dating thing was killing me). I hope that love and marriage is not a crock of shit.
Find myself? Oh I see him: He’s that wrinkless (thank God!) bald guy staring me back in the mirror, but now I’m noticing what you’ve spotted a while back: that I don’t look the way I used to — and I am not pleased.
I know what you are doing girls, you’re getting me back for all of those years of not getting it. You’ve had to put up with my self-absorbed meanderings while I brushed off your life’s introspection, menopause or whatever. And now that I’m going through my “thing,” ten years later, you’re throwing some gasoline on the fire. Hurry up and become a real man who can measure up to a woman? Thanks for your help.
I still think you’re being mean and I’m just going to say that I’m right where I’m supposed to be: Maturely ten years behind your 40, … and I can still have kids–if I wanted to.
Oh yeah!: I can still turn whatever you say into an “It’s about me” topic. So there.