I can't get it out of my head an interview in this same newspaper I spoke with an expert on ageism, and she explained that she hides her birthdate because it harms her. She knows what she's talking about. Ageism, especially against women, discriminates against us in every area. But I'm shocked by the act of hiding one's age. I've spent the last few years championing maturity, and it pisses me off to see age become another kind of closet. I'm convinced that being 56 is a blessing—the experience, the maturity, the freedom—and I'm very happy about it. But I'm no one to judge another woman who hides her age because discrimination exists. If I were an actress, for example, I wouldn't talk about my age so casually.
However, I'm not comfortable turning another reality for women—age—into yet another wardrobe. Women already have enough to deal with! And for those who don't believe me, let me begin the catalog. First, as I've already mentioned: a fantastic wardrobe for hiding age. Then another for hiding non-normative bodies—which is to say, almost all of us—where we conceal our weight, wrinkles, breasts, gray or dyed hair, cellulite, among many other things. Another wardrobe that hides the reality of motherhood and raising children. To pretend we're ideal and capable. That we can do it all with a smile on our faces. Or to hide the desire not to be a mother! The wardrobe for stuffing the word menopause, where we also keep our complaints because the training of doctors—even gynecologists—and scientists in the health field barely addresses it. And therefore, there are too many medical professionals who, when it comes to treating us, don't know enough. Another enormous closet for hiding low, medium, and high-intensity sexual violence. It's disturbing to think it's the system, and it's better to think they're isolated cases. Just one woman had the bad luck, and that way there's no need to question the men who remain silent or look the other way. A closet in which to cramm our uninhibited sexuality. Because the more discreet, the more conventional, and the less passionate women are, the better; it doesn't look good. Despite modernity, it's better not to be seen as a free spirit. No monogamy, no bisexuality. No promiscuity. No voluntary singleness. Out. All in the closet. And, of course, a closet to hide our mental health issues. Because so much hiding takes its toll. So much hiding. So much pretending that we are what is asked of us and not what we really are.
I'm prone to claustrophobia, and that list of closets feels oppressive. For eleven years I wrote for the supplement Creatures I wrote articles under the pseudonym "The Worst Mother in the World," advocating for people to come out of the closet of imperfection. And as I entered adulthood, I didn't want to go back. I told anyone who would listen about my age and my sexual orientation. I did so with the conviction that social change happens in broad daylight. And that inside closets, only hives, dust, and darkness breed. Shall we come out and breathe the air?
