Being the center of attention has never been my goal. I have been married to my husband for more than 40 years, I am sixty-three years old, and I have raised two amazing sons. He treated us to a seaside getaway this year as a surprise. I was wearing my swimwear and holding him when we took the photo. Out of pure affection for us, one of our sons posted the picture on our family chat.
My younger son’s wife, my daughter-in-law, had a strong reaction at that point.
“Whoa, is granny acting like a kid again? It’s time to hide that wrinkled body! What are people going to think? She included a laughing emoji in her writing.
Many people fell silent. Her husband, my son, remained silent as well. My older kid was the only one who wrote, “That was too much.”
As I read that, I started to feel hurt. Not because I felt self-conscious. But because my granddaughter’s mother, a young lady, believes that once you get older, you should hide—disappear.
I didn’t answer that evening. However, I made the decision to correct her the following morning and demonstrate that you should not talk to elderly people in such a manner.
When we got back home a week later, I threw a family supper. Everyone was invited, including my daughter-in-law and my children and grandchildren.
I had my husband print that big black-and-white picture for me, and I put it in the middle of the table. After everyone had shown up, I got up and uttered:
– I appreciate you coming. After 40 years of being together, I want to show you what love looks like today. This is what a body looks like after giving birth, cooking, cleaning, staying up late, working two jobs, and still loving. I’m wrinkled, yes. My body isn’t flawless, yes. But I don’t feel guilty about it. I take pride in it. My spouse still looks at me the same way he did on our wedding day, and I’m proud of that.
A pause, a quiet.
My gaze shifted to my daughter-in-law:
However, if someone thinks that love is all about having a nice swimsuit and smooth skin, perhaps it’s time to consider what they’re teaching their girls.
She lowered her gaze. She remained silent. The remainder of the evening proceeded in a relaxed yet anxious manner.
She approached me a few days later. Not a drama. Using a pie. And with regret. “I understand,” she said. that she felt embarrassed. because as she grew older, she had never had a genuine example of what genuine feelings looked like.
