{"id":6769,"date":"2021-11-16T06:50:46","date_gmt":"2021-11-16T11:50:46","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.silvercentury.org\/?p=6769"},"modified":"2021-11-16T06:50:46","modified_gmt":"2021-11-16T11:50:46","slug":"so-what-if-im-old","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/2021\/11\/so-what-if-im-old\/","title":{"rendered":"So What If I\u2019m Old"},"content":{"rendered":"

Every so often, I have a flash of insight about my own internalized ageism. When it happens, I am both disappointed and pleased.<\/span><\/p>\n

To set the stage<\/span>:<\/span> I am driving to a doctor\u2019s appointment at a major downtown medical center. (In case you\u2019re wondering what the appointment is for, be patient\u2014that just might be a topic for a future blog.)<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019ve not been to this doctor before. I am rushing not to be late and am just a tad anxious about finding the correct office. Valet or self-park? A crowded parking garage, and now waiting for a terribly slow driver to back out of a parking space. (And no, the slow driver is NOT an older person!)<\/span><\/p>\n

Following my<\/span> scribbled notes, I eventually arrive at the correct office and receive terrific care. I retrace my steps to the parking garage, walk to the level where I parked, but my car is not where I\u2019d left it. I quickly recognize that I\u2019m not on the correct parking level, and I can picture clearly what that level looks like.<\/span><\/p>\n

Not certain of the best route to my car, I walk up the ramp hesitatingly, about five or six steps, just to get my bearings and rethink the correct location. I smile to myself as I confidently turn and walk slowly to retrieve my vehicle. That\u2019s when I notice her.<\/span><\/p>\n

A woman, standing in the middle of the pedestrian walkway on the parking garage ramp, watching me. I think to myself, \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with her, she might get run over.\u201d Then she approaches and asks if I need any help.<\/span><\/p>\n

What? Me? Need help?<\/span> I smile and say no, and then say a curt thank you.<\/span> That\u2019s when I start seething inside. I am NOT the disoriented old guy who needs some pity help! How (bleep) condescending of her.<\/span><\/p>\n

I judge her ageism\u2014that she assumes because of my appearance that I probably need some help. I am personally offended. Bruised ego. A bit outraged. <\/span><\/p>\n

That\u2019s when I catch myself with just a flicker of humility. Perhaps she just thinks I <\/span>might<\/span><\/i> need help, no matter what my age, and inquired. What\u2019s so wrong with that?<\/span><\/p>\n

And besides, so what if I\u2019d been a bit disoriented?!  My being ashamed of being disoriented is internalized ageism. So what if I have a skin-flap under my chin. So what if I\u2019m slower in line. So what if I\u2019m old. <\/span><\/p>\n

That\u2019s when I am both disappointed and pleased. Disappointed in myself that I have once again reacted out of the deep habit of old is bad, young is good. And pleased with myself that I have caught it and caught it so quickly this time. <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Every so often, I have a flash of insight about my own internalized ageism. When it happens, I am both disappointed and pleased. To set the stage: I am driving to a doctor\u2019s appointment at a major downtown medical center.…<\/span><\/p>\n

Read more So What If I\u2019m Old<\/span> ›<\/span><\/a><\/div>\n

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