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Health & Fitness

My New Normal

Is it a dubious compliment or a new normal?

My younger sister, Ellen, was an incredibly beautiful child.  Aware of the sensitivity of her older ugly duckling, our Mother took great care to compliment me, constantly stressing I had perfect posture.  It took a few years before I realized it was the only positive critique she could give me.  Until that moment I truly believed good posture was as wonderful as being beautiful.  I was wrong, but still I was happy with the dubious praise.

As I grew older, her compliments changed to studious, well read and even sometimes intelligent, but never beautiful.  And I was still happy.  My Mother was a wise woman.

Then one miraculous day, as all ugly ducklings do, I seemed to change.  Certainly never to become as beautiful as my sister, but also able to attract some attention from the opposite sex.  Suddenly, there were a few more compliments from those interested in currying my favor, pretty and tall were two of my favorites.  And I was quite content.  It truly was better than good posture.  However, almost anything was, if I wished to be honest with myself.

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As both I and the young men in my life grew older, the descriptions changed.  Sometimes even the coveted word, sexy, was whispered, but not often.  Once again I was happy.

The days marched by as effortlessly as I seemed to age.  A quick blink and soon, I, too, was a Mother worrying about her own offspring and their self-esteem.  There wasn't time to listen for compliments, but when they came, they were incredibly welcome.

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Occasionally, I would hear the words well-dressed, or good neighbor, and that made me happy.  On one rare occasion I was even told after a memorable dinner that I was a good cook.  That was really lovely news because it wasn't always valid.

Again I blinked and once more found my world had changed.  This time dramatically, and compliments meant little if anything.  In reality, they seldom came.  Of if they did, I wasn't listening.  There were far more important things to think about.

Once during those frantic years I was described as a loyal wife  Odd, I remember thinking, don't the two words mean the same.  It was irrelevant then because I was far too busy with other more complicated concerns.  During the next four years, I could probably only be described as distant or remote, and I truly didn't care.  Then I blinked once more, and this time my life had changed permanently.

Yesterday after reading a routine questionnaire I had completed in a medical facility, the receptionist gave me a new and rather dubious compliment.  For the first time I wondered about an evocative word applied to me   Independent?  Is that an accolade?  It almost falls into the category of good posture, I thought.  Perhaps I considered is it the lesser of two evils.  If I weren't independent, then what would I be.  Dependent, an albatross, clinging?  Suddenly I recalled my Mother desperately trying to give her older daughter some self-esteem and confidence, and I wondered about this new language.  Was it meant to lessen the obvious reality of age?  Certainly there were other valid metaphors.  Should I be flattered?

Then I paused and thought, so what?  I have survived other words.  I can surely learn to smile appropriately when the new-normal compliment to a woman of my vintage is applied.  I realize I could have been described as aged or wrinkled (all valid) or perhaps even unpleasant, so I have decided once again to be happy.  And smile thankfully, as any lady should when she received a well intentioned compliment.

C'est la vie!

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