Aging Isn't the Shame - Hiding Is

When I invited my mother on a girl's trip to Texas, I didn't expect her reaction to break my heart just a little.

It was May and we were escaping a long Calgary winter for some Texas sunshine - just me and my mom on a rare mother-daughter getaway. I was excited for the River Walk, the reunion, and the sparkling hotel pool. 

In my mind packing the necessities was simple - sunhat, sandals, swimsuit, shorts, good walking shoes - but it turned into a powerful lesson about shame, aging, and the quiet rules women follow without even realizing.

 I reminded my mom - who was nearing 80 at the time - to bring her bathing suit.

Her response was immediate and absolute: " Oh no. I can''t. May back is so ugly."

She was referring to her age spots. And in that moment, I heard the sting of shame that so many women carry quietly as they age.

I reminded her gently that the people by the pool would never see her again. That she deserved to enjoy the water and the warmth. That her body was not something to hide. 

Still, she wouldn't pack the suit. 

She wasn't alone in that kind of thinking. That shame didn't come from nowhere. 

For my mother's generation, modesty was expected, and aging was something you concealed - not embraced. Bodies were meant to be covered. Criticized. Controlled.

She passed this story down, like so many mothers did. Not out of malice - but from a place of protection. Of keeping us safe from judgement.

And then came our generation. 

We grew up in a different time but we weren't immune. 
We were fed glossy magazine covers, airbrushed movie stars, diets dressed up as *wellness,* and headlines that warned us of *bikini bodies*,*age-defying serums* and quiet rules about what's *appropriate* to wear after a certain age. 

The message was different, but the result was the same. 
Hide. Fix. Shrink. Improve. Never be quite enough.

Every Spring, as the layers start to peel off and the sun begins to coax skin into the light, I hear versions of that same story from women I work with.

"Can I still wear shorts after I'm 50?"
"I hate my arms, I never show them."
"My legs don't look like they used to."

And quietly, the question underneath it all: Am I allowed to be seen like this?

Let me answer that for you.

Yes. You are.

Personally, my legs used to be one of my best features. Long, lean, tanned with just the right amount of muscle. Now, they're wrapped with the ropes of deep varicose veins, sagging skin, and knees that don't look like they used to. They're not what they once were. But they still carry me forward. 

But here's the thing: we are allowed to be seen. 

I still wear the shorts - and the swimsuit. And I have the nerve to feel good about myself.

I don't live my life - or dress - for what someone else might judge me for. (Who decided the cut-off date for legs?)
I dress for who I am. Now. 

The truth is our bodies change. But that change doesn't need to come with shame. It can come with grace. With reverence. Even with a little rebellion. 

Because you've earned the right to wear what feels good. To feel sun on your skin without apology. To show up in your life, in all your beautiful realness. Your body isn't broken - it's simply showing evidence that it's been well lived in.

You can make your choices tasteful. You can style things in a way that feels elevated. You can makeover your mindset.

Don't let shame be the loudest voice in the room. 

Let joy be louder.
Let comfort be louder.
Let freedom be louder.

And let us be seen - for ourselves, and for the younger women watching.
We're not just dressing for our bodies.
We're modelling what it looks like to live fully, age proudly, and show up with self-respect and confidence.

Because when we choose visibility , we help define what it means to grow older with spirit, sass, and style.

Copyright: 2025 Helene Oseen