Would You Rather be a Cougar or a Cow?
Now that I have gotten your attention – and most probably alienated most of you – the answer would be:
Let me clarify so you don't go running from this lovely community of fabulous women thinking that this is a blog written by crazy, narcissistic, shallow lunatics – over 50, of course.
There are six amazing 50-something women that I get together with once a month. We have been dining together for almost 15 years and have shared our lives over many a meal and even more bottles of wine.
We have raised, or are still raising, 18 kids between us. As with all women of our generation, we have seen our share of joys and hardships and have helped to pull each other through them. We are the sounding board, the place you can get away with nothing, the heated debate and the loving hug when you need it most.
We have worked at home, outside the home, started careers and left them. We come from all different professions. Some are still passionate about them, others are just trying to make a living and still others have taken different paths to fulfillment.
In short, we are seven women who have reached a point in life where the little things should no longer be what we sweat over.
The other night we went to dinner at a new and rather chic restaurant in NYC. At the end of the meal we decided to take in the breathtaking view at the rooftop bar. As we entered the place there was talk of someone hearing a 'younger' man comment about taking two cougars up to his room. It made a member of the group very uncomfortable and it resulted in our leaving. (Which made me rather sad because I really wanted another drink in that beautiful space).
Let me set the scene here. We entered an elegant rooftop bar with an outside deck on a Thursday night in NYC at 10:30PM. What did we expect to find up there? A PTA meeting? A book group? A Botox party? A bunch of women reading What to Expect When You're Ass Drops, or maybe Chicken Soup for the Cougar Soul?
Big surprise, the place was filled with beautiful people ranging in age from mid-20s to just before you decide to have babies, wear sweatpants at this hour and most probably are drooling within 20 minutes (I believe that last one is a documented demographic labeled 'New Mom').
So what! To me, the great news is we are way past the time in life when what we wear, who we are seen with or how perfect we are really matters. That is what we earn with some years behind us.
But whether it matters to us or not. Whether we fight it armed with whatever it takes to look young or let time do what it may; we will still age. And so will those younger people at the hip bar.
The question is how gracefully?
Now don't get me wrong. I like to look as good as I can. But I suppose I have different expectations. And the jokes made after this whole episode are what it is all about in my world. Being who you are and having humor about it.
One woman laughed the whole thing off and commented that maybe the guy who wanted to take cougars up to his room was a zoologist.
But the best comment of the night was this,
"Hey, I guess if they thought we were cougars we did not look so bad. Better than being called cows."
Seriously, isn't life a little too rich and a lot to short to be worrying about how people half your age pass judgment on you? You have to admit when phrased that way it makes you think.
Me? I think I will pass on the animal labels if you don't mind.
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